Summary of Thirteenth and Final(!) Chat Session—December 14

There’s only one appropriate response to having completed the entirety War and Peace—as one participant so wisely expressed it, “Woo-hoo!” At the same time, though, one mentioned, “Hate to see it end.” It is difficult arriving at the ends of things. Tolstoy must have agreed with these sentiments so much that he decided to have not just one, but two whole epilogues to conclude the novel. The first epilogue begins similarly to how the second one ends—by making arguments against using “ultimate purposes” and reason to explain history and the movement of humanity. Tolstoy claims, “Just as the sun and every atom of ether is both a sphere complete in itself and also only a tiny part of an inconceivably vast whole, so every personality bears within himself his own aims whilst bearing them also in service of generalized aims that lie beyond human comprehension…The higher the human intellect goes in discovering more and more purposes, the more obvious it becomes that the ultimate purpose is beyond human comprehension.” Tolstoy explains that man is an infinitesimal part of the whole; thus, his decisions made with free will actually constitute a small part of a larger force moving humanity, a force with already determined “generalized aims” unintelligible to man himself. We see the transformations of a number of characters in the seven years that pass. Their transformations, renewed goals (which, in a lot of ways, echo their old ones), and the rise of the younger generation seem to bring things full circle. Their new hopes and dreams, even the repeated names, bring to mind the image of this “sphere complete in itself.”

Ideal Relationships, Family Life, and Knowing Each Other’s Thoughts

Regarding Pierre and Natasha’s as well as Nikolai and Princess Marya’s married lives, a participant mentioned, “I thought the interactions between the married couples were dead-on correct.” One observed, “The marital scenes were realistic--kind of make it okay to get fat and frumpy--and be happy!”—which is depicted very positively and is something important to Tolstoy. The couples seem to know each other inside and out, even understanding the needs of the other in an almost spiritual sense without the need of communicating through words. “The scene where Marya knows her husband is going to be irritable, and the ‘discussion’ scene between Natasha and Pierre showed that you do learn to recognize moods and can follow each other's thoughts during conversations.” Another observed, “It appears that the group of married people are now mature and relish their new life, a more earthy, at peace with themselves lifestyle,” and another, “Both couples chose to stay primarily out of ‘frivolous’ society and lead quieter, happier, stable lives.” Tolstoy seems to consider such characteristics to be key in a successful marriage—partners need to communicate and understand each other and be united beyond money, societal prestige, or sexual attraction. Many pointed out that Pierre and Natasha’s as well as Nikolai and Princess Marya’s relationship were more ideal than other marriages in the novel, such as the ones between Boris and Julie Karagin, Vera and Berg, and not to mention, all the scandal surrounding Helene. Instead, family becomes the center of attention: “Many men and women that were once wild or free spirited, and once they were married with children, those forces seem to fade into the background.” Tolstoy’s ideal runs contrary to the norm in that time period—Sara pointed out, “Adultery was actually quite common during this time period (in Russia and elsewhere - the French, oh my!), because pre-marital sex was taboo, so unmarried young men would have affairs with married women.” So the Pierre/Natasha and Nikolai/Princess Marya marriages were quite rare for aristocratic society.

Natasha’s Transformation into a Mother Figure

All four of them do change considerably in married life, though most of those in the discussion found Natasha’s transformation particularly striking. One made the inference, “Natasha's character fully developed to a logical conclusion, it seemed to me, at least for that period of time.” However, she does change considerable from her younger self. “Natasha was light-hearted, etc., when she was young, knew less of the world, was supposed to be attracting a husband. Now she doesn't have to do that, and is devoted to children and husband--no need to play to anyone else.” One participant did mention, “Natasha does carry it a bit far; or at least I was sorry that she gave up her singing.” She does give up those activities that once made her attractive to men—her singing and dancing—but these activities also marked her with a certain vitality and uplifting spirit. She seems to have replaced her special spirituality through singing and dancing with a spirituality distinguished by motherhood. A participant noted, “I think that once you have a child, you realize how much you love that person, would sacrifice for that person, and as a mother ( and father's sacrifice, too) you do put them first.” By 1820, she has transformed into what seems to be Tolstoy’s ideal of a mother figure. “She lets go of her previous interests and focuses on bearing and raising children. She was even applauded the fact she was breastfeeding her child, very unusual for that time, especially for a noblewoman.” Another observed, “That new ‘quietness’ shows a kind of contentment with who she has become, as well as an acceptance of her life as it has turned out.” Natasha’s new role as a mother has allowed her “to learn to love on a broader level, beyond her own interests.”

Despite her change in personality, it isn’t too surprising since “taking on those roles of marriage and motherhood seemed to be the forces that matured her and made her focus on what was considered then to be important -- her husbands happiness, the children's needs before her own, etc.” Many observed how Natasha takes a completely different path than Helene, who was “one of those women who continued to be wild, and often don't stay married! She was running after youth.” Even Prince Andrei’s former wife Lise had complaints about married life—she didn’t like being away from society because of her pregnancy. Unlike Helene and Lise, Natasha fully embraces the responsibilities of married life as a mother.

The Development of Nikolai Rostov

A few participants pointed out, “Nikolai doesn’t seem to grow or change as the novel progresses.” Many turned down the idea that Nikolai is “the hero” of the novel. One noted, “Tolstoy is describing Nikolai and Sonya's marriage as lacking the foundations needed in order to survive, or even thrive, after a economic or some other kind of disaster.” They simply don’t have the foundation in their relationship to thrive, not like his relationship with Princess Marya. A participant observed, “Nikolai seemed to mature on a fairly normal trajectory--not a’heroic’ one.” But would Tolstoy consider his “normal trajectory” unheroic? One responded, “Nikolai didn’t do much out the ordinary—though sometimes just making it through the day with a a certain amount of grace may be heroic!” Nikolai ends up being “a solid individual. He appears to stay focused on task and strives to do his best.” Tolstoy wants us to question our notions of what a hero really is. Nikolai could embody that simplicity that Tolstoy seems to hold as ideal.

Little Nikolai Bolkonsky and the New Generation

There are many echoes between older generation (Pierre, Natasha, Nikolai, Princess Mary) and the younger one (their children and Prince Andrei’s son, Little Nikolai). Many in the discussion found Little Nikolai to be a bit of an outsider, though: “He seemed like a rather pathetic character--not wholly loved.” Interestingly, this characteristic somehow links him with his father, as one noted, “He is a quiet thinker...like his father was.” One observed, “Young Nikolai serves as a link to Andrei. Pierre and Andrei had a friendship, and young Nikolai admires Pierre.” So the connection between Pierre and Prince Andrei is reinforced by the connection Pierre has with his friend’s son. Even the tensions between Nikolai and Prince Andrei manifest in the tensions between Nikolai and Little Nikolai. The uncle has a certain coldness towards his nephew. Nikolai even appears in his nephew’s dream “as a such a frightening figure, representative of some kind of crushing authority” after the political disagreement between Pierre and Nikolai. There is a strong foreboding atmosphere when Nikolai tells Pierre, “If you get involved in activities against the government and I am ordered to arrest or shoot you, I will.” Little Nikolai’s connection with Pierre (especially since Pierre was his father’s best friend) positions him against his uncle.

This connection between the old and the new is very strong—a participant even made the reminded us “Note how the children are named after several deceased characters.” These interconnections between the old and the new seems “to represent the circle of life; a new generation interested in ideals and eager to make their mark on the world but hasn’t quite learned from history.”

The Effects of Prince Andrei’s Death Reflected in the Epilogue

Besides the presence of Little Nikolai, many felt that Prince Andrei had a strong presence in the epilogue since his death allowed all of these new developments to happen. A participant pointed out, “Nikolai and Marya could not have married if Price Andrei lived…Pierre or Natasha for that matter!” One agreed with the point that it seems as if “most of the characters ended up better off because Prince Andrei died.” The Rostov’s fortunes were saved through Nikolai’s marriage with Princess Marya, and many doubted that Natasha and Prince Andrei would have ended up happy together. “Andrei was always trying to get away from his wife and family, and that's what Natasha wants at the end - to bind Pierre to her and the family.” We have a glimpse of what Nikolai and Sonya’s marriage would have been like—living in poverty and with a certain distance between them. Prince Andrei’s death allows prosperous, new life to stir among those he left behind.

War and Peace…the Sequel (?) and Pierre as a Decembrist

Sara pointed a few historical facts about the Decembrist Revolt of 1825. “It started when the officers (like Nikolai Rostov) went with the Russian Army to Paris after defeating Napoleon. They were exposed to Western values and ideas, which they brought back to Russia. There were basically two groups - one that was more radical and actually thought about assassinating the tsar, the other just wanted a constitutional monarchy. But they were arrested, sent into exile (five were executed). Originally, War and Peace was supposed to be a novel about a Decembrist who returns to Russia from Siberian exile. But as he did research, he found the causes of the Decembrist Revolt in the War with Napoleon, and that's what the novel turned into. So there are hints at the end of the novel that Pierre (with his ‘secret society’) and the date - 1820 - is going to be one of these Decembrists and be sent into Siberian exile, with Natasha following him as one of the famous ‘Decembrist wives.’ Here he is getting involved with yet another group, yet another plot, yet another attempt to control the world and events.” So Pierre’s visit to St. Petersburg was hinting at the Decemberist movement. Sara explained, “When Tolstoy was writing the novel in the 1860s, ideas about revolution (from Europe, especially French socialist thinkers) were becoming more and more common. So the question of revolution at the time was very much in the air.” Many found that Pierre’s new trajectory is quite characteristic of him: “Pierre is a seeker, that's for sure. He's never really content with himself, always striving for something better.” One noted, “He learns from Platon Karatayev to be quiet and content and accept life as it is. He even admits that Platon wouldn't like what he's doing. But the circle of life pulls us back in.” Many saw Pierre as an idealist, “a person who, once again, strives to make his mark in society or in history.”

Some wondered, was there supposed to be a sequel? Sara answered, “The original conception of the book was to set it in a period of time more or less contemporary to when Tolstoy wrote it. He wrote it in the 1860s, and in 1856 the tsar pardoned the Decembrists and allowed them to return to European Russia. So it was supposed to be about a Decembrist (Pierre) returning from exile in 1856. But as he started doing the research on the Decembrists, he started to realize how important the Napoleonic Wars were, so he went back farther and farther...”

The Second Epilogue

Understandably, many found Tolstoy’s “more philosophical writing is pretty difficult,” and “disjointed and abstract. Something that I could read many times and still not understand.” He seems to hint at things, but doesn’t quite come out and say them straightforwardly. A few responses to the epilogue were: “He starts by explaining that events cannot be satisfactorily attributed either to God or to a king, but falls short of offering an alternative”; “and I was disappointed that he seemed to be saying history could become a scientific study of laws controlling human action”; “It seemed to me to be a bit of stream of consciousness writing, with ideas being tossed around, but what was lacking for me was pulling it all together.” Sara clarified by pointing out, “It seems like Tolstoy is ultimately arguing for the actions of a Deity in guiding human affairs. He doesn't come right out and say it in this section, but he says it elsewhere, and the book is constructed along these lines. In this epilogue, he states that ancient historians believed in the Deity, but modern historians have rejected that notion. But if we look at the notions of modern historians, they leave us with nothing but contradictions. So his conclusion (as I fill in his blank) is that the only way to resolve the contradictions is to accept the involvement of a deity.” Tolstoy debunks the idea that great men and power move history, so he makes the case of history being moved by human beings acting within the bounds of free will and the law of necessity. He goes into detail explaining that you can never have pure free will, with no necessity, and no pure necessity with no free will. He says that understanding the laws of history is beyond man’s intellect because human knowledge is limited to reason. In order to lay out the laws of history perfectly, one must suspend reason. Sara noted, “His astronomy analogy explains that before Copernicus, we thought the sun revolved around the earth and we refused to believe the opposite because we couldn't FEEL the earth revolving around the sun. Just like we refuse to believe we are dependent on a higher power because we FEEL our free will. We feel like we are free and can do whatever we want. So even though we don't feel ourselves revolving around the sun, we have to accept it as truth - as a law - just like we have to accept our dependence on a higher force.” Tolstoy’s final line in the novel, “It is essential to get away from a sense of freedom and accept a dependence we do not feel,” reinforces the idea that man’s decisions that are made with free will actually constitute a small part of a larger force moving humanity, a force with already determined “generalized aims” that are perhaps dictated by God and unintelligible to man. "It is essential to get away from a sense of freedom and accept a dependence we do not feel."

A film still from the scene of Prince Andrei's death in Sergei Bondarchuk’s 1965 adaption of War and Peace. Unlike Prince Andrei, you don't have to await what's to come -- "grim, eternal, unknown and remote something"-- since you've gotten through the entire novel!

Unfortunately, Tolstoy decided not to write any more epilogues or sequels, so this is it—you’ve finished War and Peace! Thanks goes out to Sara, of whom many said that without her guidance getting through the novel wouldn’t have been possible or as rich and rewarding an experience. Thanks also goes out to all the motivated readers who participated and contributed their insights during the weekly meetings and stuck it out to the very end.

Summary of Twelfth Chat Session—December 7

In the final parts of the novel right before the Epilogues, we see more deaths before the end of the novel—that of Kutuzov, Petya, and Platon Karatayov. However, these deaths somehow allow new beginnings to take place. The death of Kutuzov is a sort of conclusion to the Napoleonic invasion in Russia. “The movement of men from west to east” took place and finished. Kutuzov’s death allows the pendulum to swing back to its starting point such that a new campaign can start—now, there can be “a movement of men from east to west, a new war with a new proponent, with aims and qualities that differed from Kutuzov’s.” Likewise, the death of Petya allows Natasha to reawaken after the death of Prince Andrei. She comes back to life by comforting her mother and, once again, getting caught up in the necessities of everyday life. The death of Platon reflects Pierre’s new worldview—much like Prince Andrei’s at the moment of death—that those who die return to the whole, to God. Death at the end of the novel functions as an opportunity for rejuvenation for those that die (they return to the whole from which they came) as well as those that survive (they are able to begin new life).

Patriotism and Heroes

By the of the Napoleonic presence in Russia in the novel, a number of participants were curious to tie up exactly how Tolstoy defines patriotism and heroes. Tolstoy renews this theme by reintroducing Petya as a young and energetic, albeit naïve, soldier looking for an opportunity to be a “hero.” His behavior reflects what we’ve already seen in the early days of the war—Nikolai and Prince Andrei, too, sought chances to display their heroism at Schongrabern and Auzterlitz. This time around, Petya admires Dolokhov and Denisov. Regarding the returning theme of naïve heroism in Petya, one noted, “I also thought it was a reminder that in spite of all that had happened, the younger generation still reacted to war as an excitement, a place for heroes. Tragically, it wasn't. We don't learn from generation to generation.”

Regarding Tolstoy’s sense of nationalism, one participant noted, “LT is one of the more nationalistic writers certainly of that century. He constantly contrasts the Russian behavior to Napoleon with the other Europeans. His heroes are the Russian character and the old verities not tainted by western ideas.” Another participant related this idea to how Tolstoy depicts Kutuzov as a “true” hero, “true” in the way that Tolstoy depicts Tushin as a hero and the simple common soldiers as heroes. One participant observed, “Kutuzov seems to represent the more peasant Russians, not the upper crust of Russian society.” More observations on Kutuzov: “Kutuzov success comes in great part from his understanding of the true Russian character and beliefs. He acts intuitively in fulfillment of that understanding.” The description of the Russians’ use of guerrilla warfare, basically breaking all the rules, relates to Tolstoy’s positive depiction of the instincts of common Russian soldiers. On a larger scale, he even praises how the Russians "put down the dueller's rapier and picked up a cudgel"—a bold move in directly going against the traditional standards of warfare and still succeeding. As one noted, “Intuition rather than careful planning seems to be key.” Kutuzov embodies this kind of instinct: “Kutuzov doesn't make grand plans, he takes things as they come and goes about the job of expelling the invader.” Many found that he has a gritty side to him—“ And the scene when Kutuzov speaks to his soldiers and tells them to be kind to the French, to spare them. But then lets loose with a nice, juicy Russian swear word! He does seem to be on their level, to be able to speak like them and interact effectively with them.”

The Interplay of Cruelty and Compassion in War

Many found this interplay strongest in contrasting the way Dolokhov and Denisov treat prisoners during the final parts of the campaign in Russia. When Prince Andrei is speaking to Pierre before the Battle of Borodino, and he says that we shouldn't take any prisoners, they should all be shot, we shouldn't play at war. Dolokhov enacts Andrei's very words in insisting to kill all the French prisoners. However, Kutuzov later tells his soldiers to spare the French prisoners. And then when we have the scene with Ramballe and his orderly coming out of the woods, the Russians feed them, care for them. The soldiers - plain soldiers - can get along just fine face to face. They sing and laugh together. This begs the question—what’s the point of slaughtering each other?

Dolokhov seems to have no problem doing so. A participant observed, “LT describes his that is Dolokhov's gaze as chilling. His characterization seems to suggest an antipathy toward Dolokhov's actions.” Another said, “Dolokhov seems perfect for guerilla warfare. He is cunning, cruel, daring and fearless, and amoral.” His behavior seems to be in line with the way Tolstoy has presented his character previously—Dolokhov is the guy who will cheat a “friend” at cards to the point of ruin, and he is the guy who helps Anatole nearly lure Natasha into eloping with him.

Denisov, on the other hand, “seems compassionate and hopes to protect Petya.” As one stated, “Therein lies the great tension between Denisov the proper soldier and Dolokhov.” Dolokhov portrays the sheer brutality possible in warfare, whereas Denisov portrays the compassion that is equally possible. Dolokhov is the one who takes Petya on a dangerous setting of spying on the French (and he doesn’t exactly look out for him when things get tricky), and Denisov is the one who “howls like a dog” when Petya dies. Dolokhov seems to exude a certain cruelty. “There are characters in this book who if not entirely evil have a large percentage in their makeup. Dolokhov (and Helene) are way up on that list.” Petya seems to lay at the boundary between this compassion and cruelty—not only in his interactions with Denisov and Dolokhov, but also in his own compassion towards the French prisoners and his cruel death.

Petya and the Infinite Sky

Petya, like Prince Andrei and Pierre before him, has his own moment taking notice of the infinite sky. His experience of doing so has a musical quality to it: as he watches how “the heavens were clearing to open up a pure black sky,” he hears “music swelling louder and louder.” It’s interesting to consider how, unlike Prince Andrei and Pierre, Petya’s “infinite sky” experience doesn’t conjure images of great loves or regrets. This somehow magnifies his innocence—Prince Andrei at Austerlitz is reminded of Lise, Pierre of Natasha, and Nikolai even thinks of Sonya when he is first confronted with the prospects of death—but Petya is stuck in his own head “feeling sorry there was no one to share the music and experience with.” Many found Petya’s death as “an exclamation point for the descriptions of wasteful battles and needless deaths for the sake of unnecessary glory.” “Petya and his brother Nicholai were two young, impetuous young men reacting to war the way we see young boys today--the excitement, adventure, etc. With no knowledge of what it really is.” Though Petya, unlike Nikolai, doesn’t get the chance to discover the emptiness in blind heroism—he dies a child. “The giving away of the raisins and etc. - so childish still. He's still such a child in these scenes, worried about how the "grown-ups" will view him.” Many agreed at the notion that “Petya’s death is to show the futility of war.”

Sara pointed out an interesting instance foreshadowing to Petya’s death a few hundred pages back. “One thing I like to point out is the scene at Uncle's cabin - when they all leave after eating, drinking, and Natasha's dance, they get into their carriages to go home. Petya is asleep, so he has to be carried out. Briggs translates this as something like ‘he slept the sleep of the dead’ but in the Russian original, the wording is that he was carried out ‘like a dead body.’ Again, the question of fate seems to be in play.”

Pierre’s Reaction to Platon’s Death

Right at the end of the section where Petya dies, the narrator notes that Pierre is one of the prisoners rescued by Dolokhov and Denisov. A participant observed, “Pierre's reaction to Platon's death is interesting. He is initally in denial that Platon has died, and avoids Platon.” Another noted, “I took Pierre's avoidance of Platon as a rejection of death, not his teachings,” and, “Appears that Pierre can't face the tragedy of him dying. Pierre was deeply affected by Platon.” Pierre’s initial reaction not not even wanting to look back at Platon’s body after being shot seems to act as a survival tactic, much like the simple common soldiers trying to avoid thoughts about death before the start of battle. However, Pierre’s refusal to react like Platon’s dog—to howl and cry at the sadness and shock of the situation—also signifies how Pierre has changed. He comes to a number of revelations when Platon dies. During his time in captivity, Pierre understands, "The hardest and most blessed thing is to love this life even in suffering, innocent suffering." A participant observed, “The recurring theme of suffering is part of life appears again—that seems to be Pierre's mindset at the end of this section.” Before his captivity, “Pierre has taken life for granted, and only when his freedoms and sources of material happiness are taken away, does he then realize the preciousness of life itself.”

Pierre’s Dream of the Globe

Pierre’s dream echoes his new views on suffering, happiness, and his reaction to Platon’s death. Sara pointed out the parallels between Platon’s characteristic roundness and the focus of the globe (a sphere) in Pierre’s dream: “Platon was characterized by roundness - every point on the circumference is equidistant from the center. A globe is like that too, with the center being God, the drops on the surface human lives.” On the liquid globe, it’s surface is made out of drops (human lives). As humans live their lives, the drops expand and absorb God’s love; only at death does the drop return to the center, to the origin of love, to God. One participant observed, “It's an awakening, as Prince Andrei also realizes.” Pierre sees Platon’s death as a return back to God, the same way Prince Andrei realizes that death is when the soul returns to God. A participant noted, “In Pierre’s dream, we are all drops of individual water but together make up the common threat of universal love, suffering, and joy.” So Pierre’s reaction to Platon’s death is more than just a coping mechanism for the pointless brutality possible in war—it also reflects Pierre’s new worldview that there is a redemptive quality in suffering and that divine love is universal with God at its source.

Death as a Point of Rejuvenation

Considering Pierre’s reaction to Platon’s death and his vision of the fluid globe, we can come to see death as a possibility for rejuvenation in this part of the novel. Platon’s death allows Pierre to come to understand universal divine love and God as a source of that love. So there is rejuvenation possible even in death. Death also seems to permit rejuvenation for the survivors—Petya’s death comes right before Pierre’s rescue, and his death also brings Natasha back to life. One noted, “Natasha comes out of her funk immediately when her mother needs her. She is showing some maturity and growth.” Similarly, “For Natasha, it seems that Petya's death sprouts a new beginning for her.”

Natasha and Pierre

A renewed love blossoms between Natasha and Pierre: “Since they have both matured, it is a mature love.” Some found their relationship “as complete surprise,” but others thought, “Actually it wasn't really a surprise. They are both survivors.” It seems like their matured love was only possible after both struggled through the death of Prince Andrei, after Natasha understood suffering dealing with his death, after Pierre understood suffering from captivity and dealt with the death of Platon: “They both have endured suffering and life-changing experiences, which gives them another level of compatibility or understanding.” Even before that, “Pierre and Natasha have known one another, as friends, and as people who have loved the same individual (Andrei). So there are connections with each other that go beyond passion and infatuation.” One noted, “There must be some level of mutual attraction, but beyond that there must be something much deeper that keeps the relationship alive.” They are able to speak to each other about the most traumatic events in their lives. A participant observed, “When they meet for first time after the war, Natasha speaks about Andrei to Pierre, and the first time Pierre speaks of his captivity to Natasha.”

In the discussion, many wondered—was it fate for Pierre and Natasha to end up together? Would have Prince Andrei and Natasha been happy together if he survived? One answered, “There was always a troubling undercurrent in their relationship that doesn't appear in the one between Natalie and Pierre.” Another replied, “No, Natasha at that time was in love with love. The relationship did not survive their separation. Andrei was in no hurry to return to her.” Natasha and Pierre experience a similar “separation” but to a different effect: “Pierre leaves for Petersburg, as Andrei had left Natasha alone, but this time it's completely different. There doesn't seem to be any question that he'll return and things will work out for them.” This time around, “Natasha seems more mature and able to withstand this separation.” Many found that only after being wounded and close to death could Prince Andrei’s declare his love for Natasha and forgive her. There is something definitely enduring between them in the reunion scene—“Remember, there is that quiet moment just before he dies, between Prince Andrei and Natasha, when he says to her ‘I love you.’ There is no doubt he meant what he said.” Though, “Andrei and Natalie were not meant to be.” Some speculated that, “There was something enduring between Natasha and Andrei, as the death scene shows. But it seems on a higher level, maybe? Perhaps on the level of forgiveness and repentance, not necessarily about romantic love.”

Summary of Eleventh Chat Session – November 30

Perhaps a bit overwhelmed, someone in the discussion mentioned, “A lot goes on in this section.” Whoever said it was dead on! A lot does happen and seemingly everywhere too—we see the very spiffy death of Helene back at the Petersburg salons, the long and drawn out (though “light”) death of Prince Andrei in French-invaded Moscow, Nikolai entertains the notion of marrying Princess Marya during their reunion in Boronezh, Pierre meets the curious Platon Karatayev in prison, and Napoleon is on his way out of Russia. In all of these events, there is a sense of being freed—characters finally begin to understand their infinitesimal position in “the wholeness” of things, and Russia itself seems to find its place as Napoleon finally makes his exit.

Soldiers Preparing for Battle

To backtrack a bit, a few people had questions about the peculiar way soldiers behaved before battle—instead of shaking with fear, the narrator described them as “preparing gaily, happily, without any cares.” In a way, everyone in the army tries to distract themselves from death. The common soldiers, the backbone of the Russian army, deal with things simply and sincerely, taking the time to laugh at Pierre’s silly white hat. The higher-ranked officials “seem to be doing a lot of partying--living the life they were used to.” They all have their own ways of avoiding thinking about the inevitable—that they may die in just a few hours, days, weeks during battle. Prince Andrei does the same thing in the scene when he gets hit by shrapnel and receives the fatal wound that will kill him. Both Prince Andrei and Pierre, though, admire the simple soldiers for their vitality. Prince Andrei chooses to stay with them when he returns to the army after Austerlitz instead of taking up his previous position with Kutuzov. Pierre begins to even admire the ways of the simple soldiers and wants to be like them. So the soldiers preparing for battle—simply and easily, without overbearing psychological contemplation on death—is part of what makes up the Russian soldiers’ vitality and strength and even becomes a characteristic of admiration for Prince Andrei and Pierre.

Platon Karatayev

Speaking of simplicity and sincerity, Platon Karatayev, a soldier himself, seems to be the epitome of such characteristics. He’s even described as “a grandmother—he has that same warmth.” One participant observed, “Platon is the very embodiment of the great common Russian who is the salvation of the nation in difference to the elites of the salons.” He seems to stand for “Russian peasant and Russian Christian soul, both words in Russian being almost spelled the same way.” Platon is fond of speaking in snippets of truthful aphorisms, almost like a prophet: “He would say things without thinking and seems he didn't understand what he was saying. It was almost like someone was speaking through him.” Pierre is so drawn to Karatayev because of his ability to live in the moment, the way he takes things so simply, and his heart-on-the-sleeve sort of kindness. In comparison to Pierre, “Platon speaks of ordinary things that contradicts Pierre's life of wealth and privileges.” Some people connected this observation with the frivolity of the Petersburg salons depicted at the start of Volume IV. Platon embodies something completely different—“It seems as if Tolstoy's emulation of the Russian peasant is a reaction to, and a total rejection of the modern and Western and aristocratic ideals of education, wealth, sophistication, and the like.” Others also connected Platon’s simplicity with the generals “bumbling about their job and duties.” Platon seems to hold a greater truth than these so-called “great men.” A participant noted, “I wonder if Pierre's interaction with Platov is setting the stage for Pierre to come to a personal discovery about himself, that being true to his Russian heritage will give him grounding, identity, etc.” Platon does become very important for Pierre, a sort of role model during his time in captivity. This may perhaps fit in with Pierre’s tendency to follow those in charge around him, but Platon is very different from the others Pierre once followed blindly. Platon is not at all like Anna Mikhaylovna telling Pierre what to do at his father’s funeral or the cryptic Freemasons. Platon seems to carry a magnetizing “life force” that tends to attract and direct Pierre naturally rather than artificially. A participant reminded us, “Platon feels things happen not as planned but as God judges, seems to be a recurring theme with Tolstoy.”

Platon—both a soldier and a peasant—seems to differ from the peasants depicted earlier, the peasants who wouldn’t allow Princess Marya to leave her estate. Those peasants were described as “a dark, chaotic force,” a huge contrast with the way Platon is depicted! Tolstoy shows both sides of the peasants.

Why Does Pierre Meet Platon When He Does?

A participant observed that Pierre meets Platon right after the execution scene in order “to balance the violence in the executions. Tolstoy brings in Platon who is peaceful and loving.” Another noted, “You have a godly intervention, with Pierre being saved from death, and then Platon enters the stage for Pierre's self-discovery, or transformation.” Surviving the execution is like a sort of rebirth for Pierre and Platon meets him at the opportune moment, “Pierre may be more open to Platon's viewpoint, he's being reborn after believing he was going to die.” Platon “restores Pierre’s faith in life.” Platon revitalizes Pierre’s belief in the goodness in life: “I felt after the execution scene Pierre feels the world is out of control, Pierre faith has been destroyed. He keeps seeing the faces of the killed and killers. And then he meets Platon—Platon brings back goodness and love.”

Human Connection, Death of Prince Andrei, and Lots and Lots of Doors

Platon and Pierre’s meeting signifies the power of the human connection, especially in the midst of a brutal war. This idea of the “saving” power of human connection comes up a number of times in War and Peace. Some pointed out the moment with Davout, when he and Pierre make eye contact, a moment that saves Pierre’s life. Then, there is that moment with Nikolai and the French soldier where Nikolai’s recognition of the soldier’s eyes keeps Nikolai from killing him, and then the moment with Vereshchagin where the thread of human sympathy breaks, and the mob kills him. Again, this happens when Natasha and Prince Andrei reunite.

Pierre’s spiritual death and rejuvenation relates with Prince Andrei’s actual death. One noted that Prince Andrei, though, had to die: “If Andrei had recovered it would have been something of an anti-climax. Where does he go from here? He seems to be a person who agonizes a lot, and I don't see a clear way for him.” Along these same lines, Prince Andrei’s death hindges on the happiness of others—“ Also, Marya and Nikolay could not marry, and more importantly, another resolution would not take place later in the novel.” Once Prince Andrei forgives Natasha, he begins to accept and understand death. As one noted, “As Karatayev said you have to accept suffering and death as part of the journey. Once Andrei experiences his dream of death, he seems to begin the process of leaving the conscious world. Its referred to in the text as a "reawakening from life", which was a curious phrase. To me, Tolstoy could be implying that Andrei had his life on earth, now there is something else waiting for him on the other side.”

Prince Andrei has a number of strange visions while sitting in bed ill and has a very strange dream the moment right before he dies. The dream functions as a sort of “reawakening from life.” Many caught on to the door metaphor—Prince Andrei’s transition between life and death. The idea of Prince Andrei looking into open doors reappears again and again in the novel before he actually has the dream about the door before his death. Sara pointed out one particular part of the novel where the doors act as a kind of foreshadowing: “As Andrei is saying good-bye to Marya at the VERY BEGINNING of the novel, when he has dropped Lise off at his father's house, we read ‘His handsome eyes were shining with an unusual brightness and kindness, but he was looking past his sister's head through the open door into the darkness beyond.’ !!! Fate, or novelistic plotting??” One observed, “It screams of his eventual demise.” Prince Andrei also comes to the realization that “love is God, love is life, God is life.” In the last moments before his death, Prince Andrei seems to let go of his love for Natasha, a love that binds him to one person, rather than to all or to the All. He has to learn the lesson that Pierre learns from Platon.

The Notion of Fate in Relation to Two Women: Sonya and Helene

A few participants in the discussion were curious about the change Sonya undergoes. “Speaking of Sonya, I am confused about her. She writes Nikolai and releases him from his promise. It is said that she does this because she is thankful for what the Rostovs have done for her. It goes on to say that she is angry with Natasha because she doesn't know what sacrifice is about.” So Sonya writes to Nikolai, freeing him to marry Princess Marya. It seems to be “fate”—Tolstoy first has Nikolai pray to get out of his commitment to Sonya, and then God seems to answer his prayer when Sonya’s letter arrives (similar to God answering his prayer at the wolf hunt). However, we later find out that Sonya only writes the letter because the Countess Rostov forces her to do so. Sonya adopts a curious slyness when we find out that she only wrote the letter because she believes that Prince Andrei will recover, so Nikolai and Princess Marya wouldn’t be able to marry anyways. Her words about “sacrifice” to Natasha hide her ulterior motives. A few participants found this conflicting. One said, “Poor, poor Sonya. She is poor and doesn't seem to have a chance.” Another saw it differently: “Tolstoy does depict women as a bit scheming, doesn't he?” Another, still, noted, “I feel Tolstoy makes it clear that Sonya writes the letter to appease the Countess, but also because she knows Nikolai can't marry Marya if Andrei recovers.” Whether Sonya is being conniving or is simply a victim, her plan altogether backfires since Prince Andrei dies, after all.

Another woman seems to be a victim to fate—Helene. One observed, “I kind of liked that she was ‘offed’ rather quickly! Seemed to fit.” Helene becomes involved in two separate affairs outside her marriage with Pierre, and even attempts to remarry while not quite getting a divorce from Pierre. Her death is rather mysterious, “It also implies she takes an overdose of the prescribed medicine. It went right over my head it might be complications of an abortion.” One noted, “But the actual death is quick - and she dies like she lived, the subject of salon gossip.” The quick death of Helene is in sharp contrast with the prolonged death of Prince Andrei—her frivolous life seems to complement her empty death, and the realizations Prince Andrei comes to reflect the questioning and struggling he experiences in life. However, a note that with Helene's death - we're not privy to it. We've never been inside her head, like Pierre or Prince Andrei— Nor are we now. We're as distanced from her as ever.

Summary of Tenth Chat Session – November 16

You’ve finally made it to quadruple digits in War and Peace! Congratulations! A few participants found that one could tell “these sections are written later both in time and maturity from the earlier parts.” The invasion of Moscow certainly encompasses a number of complexities on a historical scale as well as in the personal lives of the characters. Both Napoleon and Kutuzov must decide what to do in the aftermath of Borodino. Moscow finds itself in a state of restless chaos with Pierre caught in its midst. The governor-general, Rostopchin, struggles with handling the mass exodus of the city, and as all this unfolds, Natasha reunites with Prince Andrei at what seems to be is death bed. Amongst this confusion, Tolstoy emphasizes the powerful effects of “the human connection” that seems to be the antithesis to senseless killing and presents the opportunity for forgiveness.

Napoleon Waits in Vain for His Coup de Théâtre

After Borodino, Napoleon considers himself the victor and declares Moscow under French rule. Many in the discussion found Napoleon’s waiting around for the Russian boyars made Napoleon seem like a “megalomaniac”—one that is about a century out of date regarding the city he claims he’s conquering! Napoleon associates Russia with the east, calling it “Asiatic” and “oriental”—as if Russia is his exotic eastern triumph, a replacement to his failures in Egypt earlier in his career. As he waits, he concerns himself with playing the perfect magnanimous conqueror in this important historical moment—he waits for his “coup de théâtre.” He expects that he will be the one to “civilize” Russia and make his new subjects love him. One noted, “Tolstoy makes Napoleon to be a fool, denying him his historical moment” on account of the Russian’s refusal to be live under French rule. Napoleon “is playing his expected role, like Caesar or Alexander the Great…It is as if there is an expected behavior of such men, or at least Napoleon thinks there is. Too bad the Russians don’t conform to his notions.” Part of Napoleon’s expectations rests on the fact that he has taken Vienna and Berlin before, and the residents there welcomed him. He expects the same with the Russians, though one found, “Tolstoy is showing the reader that the Russian is far more wise than the Austrians or Germans, who allow Napoleon to waltz into those cities, arms wide open… His point is that the Russians would never allow a foreigner to occupy or take over their country.” Tolstoy depicts such a refusal and their evacuation of Moscow as Russian patriotism. Once again, Tolstoy’s demonstrates that “great men are often the most common and the great are often the most flawed.”

Boyars were the highest ranking men up until medieval Russia, roughly between the 10-17^th centuries. Napoleon’s expectation of being greeted by boyars upon the invasion of Moscow displays his ignorance of Russian society and culture. Not too surprising, especially coming from Tolstoy!

French Invasion of Moscow and the Russian Decision to Leave

A participant noted, “The chaos of the Rostov's packing dovetails with the chaos of the French occupation of the city...” In the chaos of evacuating Moscow, Tolstoy seems to distinguish “true” patriotism from “false” patriotism. Even so, as one pointed out, “there are many paradoxes at work.” The Rostovs decide to leave some valuable belongings behind and instead take the wounded soldiers with them, but figures like Count Rostopchin seem to only pretend to be doing what they think is best but only end up making very poor decisions. There are also interesting cases like with Pierre, how he saves the life of and ends up making friends with Ramballe, a French officer. After they become acquainted, Pierre drops his plans to assassinate Napoleon. The choice of Russians to leave as well as Kutuzov’s decision to retreat also lies in this patriotism paradox: the obvious patriotic move may have been to stand and fight, but to do so “was not considered possible, even though the French army had lost two-thirds of its soldiers by then.” For Kutuzov, to stay and fight meant to lose both Moscow and the army, whereas retreat would mean that the Russians may lose the city but would at least keep the army. Tolstoy considered leaving Moscow--on part of Kutuzov as well as the Russian people-- a patriotic act.

The Calculus of History

When explaining the abandonment of Moscow, Tolstoy again brings up his theory of the calculus of history. He sees history “the instantaneous summation of the many that comprise that instant, not some portrayal of great men but of countless living and breathing individuals who act according to their feelings and when this actions are summated history occurs.” Reducing explanations of leaving Moscow as the decision of a few men cannot possibly be sufficient to explain the event, or history itself. It is the multitudes of infinitely small but important beings, each with their own emotions, actions, freewill, and reaction to events, that make history. One noted, “Tolstoy's calculus of history the idea that all historical events are the culmination of multiple factors -- people intersecting with actions and reactions.”

Vereshchagin, the Mob, and Count Rostopchin

Tolstoy paints a very negative picture of Count Rostopchin, the governor general of Moscow, during the evacuation. “This man had no idea what was happening. He just wanted to be doing something, to take people by surprise, to do a heroic deed that was gloriously patriotic, and he behaved like a little boy amusing himself while events of enormous magnitude—the abandonment and burning of Moscow—were inexorably taking shape, and he kept raising his tiny little fist first to urge on, then to turn back the mighty tide of popular will that swept him along as it went.” Perhaps the most telling of his “false” acts of patriotism is his order to the angry mob to kill Vereshchagin. Trying to find a way to calm the angry mob, Rostopchin rationalizes, “What they need is a victim.” Thus, he orders them to kill him: “Give him a thrashing…Let this traitor die and no longer disgrace the name of a Russian citizen!” A participant noted, “This portrait of Rostopchin is so destructive and so timely. His portrayal as a nineteenth century Pontius Pilote speaks to the inadequacy of many who view their political position as confirmation of their own greatness.” Another noted, “what was so disturbing for me was the fact that there was absolutely no reason for the mob to go after him… The idea that a group of people could be incited to such violence against another human.” Rostopchin, in making the decision to order the killing of Vereshchagin, “was being rational but not moral,” as one put it. Rostopchin cuts off Vereshchagin’s last words as he began to say, “Count, God above is our only…” Rostopchin drowns out Vereshchagin's last plea with shout, ordering the crowd to attach him. Without the human connection, the mob does as Rostopchin orders. “The thread of human sympathy that had been holding the mob in check had been stretched to breaking point, and now it snapped.” After the event, however, everyone feels remorse. “Full of pain and pity, they looked down at the dead body with its blue face filthy with matted dust and blood.” Even Rostopchin, as he rides away in his carriage, realizes the he did wrong in commanding the mob to attack Vereshchagin.

Prince Andrei and Natasha Reunite

Completely opposite to the Vereshchagin affair, many found Prince Andrei and Natasha’s meeting to be one of great love and forgiveness. The scene was praised as being “beautifully written” and “a great piece of work!” One noted, “It is the scene unfolding through the Andrei's delirium that is so astounding to me,” and another, “Tolstoy had a deep understanding of human psyche, and was able to describe it so accurately, so believably.” Tolstoy has us see things through Prince Andrei’s blurry perspective-- blurry because of his illness. “He wraps us around real and delusional so well that we are in a surreal place ourselves.” Sara pointed out the detail of the fly buzzing around, “Again, the real and the delusional colliding—which seems to mimic the scene at Austerlitz, when Napoleon appeared to him to be nothing more than the buzzing of a fly.” Among these semi-delusional semi-real thoughts, Prince Andrei loses his habit of intellectualizing, which in turn allows him to contemplate more “spiritual” matters. He thinks about the “new happiness” revealed to him when he saw Anatole at the field hospital. Coming to finally understand “the happiness of the soul” and “the happiness of loving”—especially the love he felt for Anatole, his enemy—Prince Andrei is able to tell Natasha that he loves her. He even becomes so overwhelmed by his love that even forgets the wrong she did to him and appears confused at her request that he forgive her. Their moment is one of intense human connection. Prince Andrei doesn’t even need to verbalize his forgiveness—he simply holds out his hand, and “Natasha also receives absolution, which finally heals her from the ‘sin’ she feels for her past behavior. It's clear when he smiles and reaches out to her that all is forgiven...it's a very powerful moment.” A participant added, “the idea of forgiveness is the act of freeing oneself from pain, misery.”

Pierre Stays in Moscow

One participant observed, “Pierre, on the other hand, seems to me a construct of LT to show us what is going on in different places… He is always the outsider, going from place to place and character to character.” He comes from Borodino completely taken by the spirit of the soldiers he meets on the battlefield. The experience there transforms him: one noted that he develops “an appreciation of the actions of the simple soldiers and the lessons that all the suffering and horror impart… The simplicity of their actions seems to transcend the usual fear of death. He admires not only their actions but the mental state that allows them to carry on without the fear that would affect others.” Pierre becomes inspired to follow in their footsteps—what he sees as “heroic” acts against the French. However, his mind changes rather quickly. A participant noted, “Pierre is so consumed with his dark ideas of seeking revenge and murdering Napoleon, but as soon as he comes into contact with Ramballe, his ideas fade away. He struck me as someone who is torn between his Russian-ness and the French side of himself.” Pierre reprimands himself for his “weakness” in changing his plans, but his human connection with the French officer convinces him to drop his plans.

Have a happy break everyone…but don’t forget to continue reading War and Peace!

Summary of Ninth Chat Session – Wednesday November 9

In Volume III, Part II, Tolstoy illustrates how the war progresses on Russian soil. He revisits the idea of what “great men” really are as he transitions from a civilian perspective of the war to a military one. However, the military perspective seems considerably different from before. We see Borodino unfold through the eyes of Pierre. He stumbles around the battlefield, trying to make sense of this foreign environment. Our previous military guide, Prince Andrei, reenters the foray with a completely different mindset than he had at previous battles. He understands the follies of desiring to become a “great man” and instead thinks of death, his love for life, forgiveness, and Natasha. As the war commences on the Russian soil, Tolstoy challenges traditional historical interpretations of Borodino, framing it as a moral and spiritual victory of the Russians over the French.

Tolstoy’s Depiction of Great Men and the “Truth”

During the discussion, many found Napoleon to be confident and inspiring, though to negative effect. One noted, “Tolstoy has made me question Napoleon’s ability.” Regarding his confidence, another noted, “He had military success in the past and decided to add laurels by invading Russia when he might have retired.” He inspires in such a way that “people wanted to drown for him,” as one observed. Tolstoy’s depictions of Napoleon reminded many that War and Peace is the work of an author, where “Napoleon seems to exist, like some Old Testament villain, to prove the point of the author.” Sara pointed out that Tolstoy felt constrained when writing a historical novel by the thought that he would have to use historical sources, which strayed from “the truth.” So we see Tolstoy grapple with what is considered the “truth” and why novels could accomplish that more than history. One participant found that Tolstoy emphasizes the “special characteristics of the Russian soldier—his sacrifices epitomized in the battery on the summit.” On a similar note, another pointed to the differences between a historian and an author: “novelists who look into the human heart have different ways of looking at events than an historian might.”

Tolstoy considers everyone involved in the “multiplicity of causes” of events in history, rather than limiting its interpretation to the “great men” and their sole decisions and actions. Before Borodino, Tolstoy goes at great length to discredit the emphasis historians place on military leaders as the arbiters of history. In the historical essay before Borodino (Volume III, Part II, Chapter 19), Tolstoy calls Kutuzov and Napoleon’s decisions in offering and accepting the battle at Borodino “involuntary and meaningless.” Their decision to engage completely went against their own interests— Kutuzov’s being the defense of Moscow, and Napoleon’s the glory of his Grande Armée. Instead of looking to Kutuzov and Napoleon, Tolstoy looks to the Russian soldier for a reason to explain the events at Borodino. He explains that Russian soldiers fought “under conditions that made it unthinkable even to get through three hours without the army being utterly defeated and put to flight, let alone keep on fighting for ten hours and still leave the issue in doubt.”

Pierre and Prince Andrei on the Battlefield

A few participants were surprised at Pierre’s appearance on the battlefield “as if he were going to a play.” One found, “Pierre seems to almost be a war correspondent,” where “we can try to understand war from a non-military member point of view”—a “naïve view” at that. Pierre, obviously unacquainted with the battlefield, makes observations that a soldier would perhaps not be aware of. A participant pointed out that Pierre notices extremes: “He sees a lot of beauty in the landscape, as well as the horrors going on there.” Pierre stands out from the rest of the soldiers, donning a white hat that many soldiers find ridiculous. Though despite his “outsider” aura, a small battalion takes Pierre in as one of their own. Pierre questions them about their fear of death, and they respond that, of course, they are afraid. Pierre as an outsider, however, witnesses the brutality of war, though seems to be unable to connect himself with the prospects of dying like the soldiers around him. Death on the battlefield is uncertain to him.

Prince Andrei on the other hand—the experienced soldier—is only hyper-aware of the prospects of dying on the battlefield. His hyper-awareness makes him want to forget death completely: he distracts himself from the gunfire and shots of cannons all around him by counting his paces back and forth and remembers Natasha. When a shell is about to burst at his feet, he declares, “I can’t die. I don’t want to die. I love life. I love this grass, the earth, the air...” Many in the discussion wondered if Prince Andrei could ever be satisfied and happy and found, “Andrei without the influence of Pierre or Natasha would be a terribly depressing person.” He seems to find a form of fulfillment when he meets Anatole at the field hospital. One pointed out, “Tolstoy seems to suggest that forgiveness is the really important issue,” experiencing “forgiveness and universal love”—Tolstoy’s vision of goodness and possible salvation. Another noted, “Prince Andrei ends his euphoria of seeing Anatole and experiencing universal love with the assertion that ‘it’s too late for me.’” By this point, Prince Andrei “has lost his wife, his home, his father, his fiancé, and now has what appears to be a mortal wound.” It is only after all of these losses that he is able to forgive Anatole. A participant responded, “Perhaps it is only in such moments that we can better concentrate and gain insight beyond the usual mundane aspects of life.”

Borodino Compared to Previous Battles

Many found Borodino to be “more graphic—it showed the ugly side of war.” Again, similar to Schongraben and Austerlitz, “There is certainly the same lack of good communication and intelligence--things seem to get done by chance and never according to planned strategy.” Tolstoy again plays with the “multiplicity of causes,” not “great men” having effect on the outcome of war—one pointed out, “There is a frantic uncoordinated pattern during all of the battles in which the sum of individual passions and fears seems far more important than the best plans of Tsars and Emperors.” For the Russians, these passions and fears become more pronounced since they are fighting on Russian soil. When considering an overview of Borodino, Tolstoy’s patriotic side seems to show—he emphasizes that the French lost less men than the Russians, but the Russians keep fighting. In the historical essay at the end of the battle, Tolstoy explains the “moral victory” as the result of the soldiers’ actions. “They were in the grip of some mysterious force…not by the will of man, but by the one who governs men and worlds.” As for the French, Tolstoy explains, “the spirit of the army had failed” because they feared the “undiminished ferocity” of the Russians even after half of its forces were gone. The “hand of an opponent stronger in spirit” had been laid on the French.