First Impressions after reading Volume I, War and Peace

I finished the first volume of War and Peace the other day, and while it’s likely that my impressions will change as I continue through the remaining three volumes (about 1100 more pages in my edition), I thought I’d update my blog with some first impressions. I read the first volume faster than I expected, but that is most likely due to the fact that I took a ‘staycation’ this past week. I will not be able to continue apace in subsequent weeks, and so perhaps getting down some thoughts now about the earliest part will help me remember them. There will be SPOILERS in the rest of this post.

Volume One is made up of three parts, which are further divided into chapters. The first part shocked me with its accessibility. I know exactly why I was scared to start - this book’s reputation is well-known as a Big Important Book Only Read by Serious People - but after getting through the first part I had a good laugh at my own expense. Part I is all society people sitting in drawing rooms, talking about status, money, marriage, and court, like a Russian Jane Austen - but the Extended Edition, with four times the number of characters. I don’t mean to say Austen novels are not complex but just that I did not expect to be as entertained as I was by a big scary book - so, maybe it wasn’t that scary after all. 

If Stefon from SNL reviewed Vol 1, Part 1

That is not to say that part I is without difficulty. Firstly, I don’t want to rag on Tolstoy too much because I do think it’s a true testament to his commitment to realism that he has so many characters with the same first name. I was one of three Colleens from kindergarten through high school, one of five Colleens in my dorm in college, and in adult life, I have maintained best friendships with two Colleens. (I guess that’s what happens after seventeen years of Catholic school!) So, I suppose all of the other books I’ve read before Tolstoy were highly unrealistic, but I was too busy getting through them with the ease that comes with distinctive character names to notice. In War and Peace, there are a few Nikolays, at least two Annas, two Maryas (one who is sometimes called ‘Marie’), a family of Kuragins, and one single character with the last name Karagin (sheesh!). I guess I felt right at home!

Beyond the multiple characters with the same first names, Tolstoy also uses nicknames for some of them and can use titles, family names, and the patronymic forms of their names as well. I was flipping to the character page in the appendix often to ensure I kept people straight. But I have to say, like any book that takes place in a different country with names I am unused to hearing, I got used to the names eventually. Once you learn that -ovich means ‘son of’ and -ovna means ‘daughter of’ —  that’s half the battle.

In summary, the first part almost comes off like a pilot episode, where Tolstoy takes us around the cast of characters in Moscow and St. Petersburg, but also in the country estate of Prince Bolkonsky, as they confront the looming war of Russia against Napoleon’s army in 1805. 

Oddly enough, one of my favorite scenes in Part I is when Pierre Kirillovich, a bastard son to Count Bezhukov, who is good-natured but who does not understand how to behave in social situations, joins a group of young men who are out drinking, making bets, and acting recklessly. The minor character Dholokov bets an English soldier that he can sit in a windowsill and drink an entire bottle of rum without falling. I felt like I was holding my breath until he successfully completed the task. The next mention of Dholokov is that he gets demoted in the army because he and Pierre Kirillovich tied a policeman to the back of a bear. Instead of being ostracized or demoted, Pierre then inherits a lot of money and marries a beautiful society woman. There was an immediacy to the writing of the drinking scene that drew me in; and the fall-out after that with the uneven application of punishment for the bear hijinks shows how class functions in 1805 Russia.

Volume I, Part II Summary on IG

I’d like to say that the whole of Volume One was easy to read, and everyone should run out and get a copy now, but Part Two and most of Part Three conformed more or less to the idea I had of War and Peace before I started the book. Parts Two and Three focus on the ~War~ part of the book, where some of the characters introduced in Part One are now on the front, serving in the Russian army in various capacities. This part was a little more difficult for me to follow and to visualize. Luckily, my book has a map in the appendix, so I was able to flip back and forth and figure out where the armies were generally heading. And luckily, Tolstoy brings a sense of immediacy to more than just drinking scenes, as his omniscient point of view allows him access to the interiors of his characters’ minds. 

To be sure, a lot of this is a slog, though there is a point to getting through the grittiness, as characters get through the confusion and brutality of battle to experience almost a sort of ecstasy on the battle field. One in particular, Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, begins his war career looking to emulate Napoleon, seeking personal glory (his own Toulon!), but he must reconcile his ideas of military grandeur with reality, as he is injured at Austerlitz after trying to recover the Russian flag. His injury seems to change his understanding of his place in the world (and to elevate the place of the ‘lofty sky’ in this schema).

Part Three mostly takes place on the front, but there are a few chapters set in Russia. One of my favorite scenes offered some comic relief after all of ‘the war stuff.’ (SPOILER ALERT) Prince Nikolay Bolkonsky, father of aforementioned Andrei, is an eccentric man, who is also abusive to his daughter Marya (who I really like as a character, who I would be if I were a character in this book, but who also shows me that it’s much better to be a woman in 21st century). When his household learns that the Kuragins, an aristocratic family, are coming to visit their country estate, the servants clear snow from the ‘avenoo’ for the guests. Bolkonsky forces them to put the snow back because no one told them to clear the snow, and because, according to the Prince, they should not clear the snow for visitors if they don’t clear the snow for people who live in the house. I read this after personally shoveling several inches of snow from around my building and around my car, so I found it particularly hilarious.

I’m excited to continue with the next volumes, though I expect the next update will be well beyond a week from now.

Starting War and Peace, or 2022: It’s Gonna Be (Russian) LIT! 🔥🔥

tl;dr: I am reading War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy (“W&P”), starting today. 

Jenny of Reading Envy, which is one of my book podcasts whose Goodreads page I lurk around (true confession, I’m a great lurker), is hosting a 2022 Reading Envy Russia Challenge, in which participants read books from/about Russia, by Russian authors, or otherwise considered to be “Russian literature” (there are a lot of geopolitical questions baked into that definition!)

I love history and consider the Cold War to be one of my principal areas of interest, so a Russian reading challenge automatically had my attention. The challenge only requests that participants read two books in the first quarter, so I thought that was manageable alongside my other reading projects. I figured I would choose a short Russian novel and fit it in. I dismissed W&P as a viable option immediately - it was too long, it would require too much energy, and I have too many other books to read right now.

Of course, once I determined that I was definitely not up for it, my brain went to work, ultimately convincing me that my reason for not selecting it, because I was too busy reading other stuff, is the very reason why I should be reading it. 

How I arrived at that conclusion: 

I have two projects that I’m reading before a deadline. The first is reading through the 2022 Tournament of Books shortlist before the judging starts up in March. The shortlist is eighteen books long and is entirely comprised of books published in English in 2021. Thus far, I’ve read twelve of the eighteen. And I hate to say this, but I’m finding the list hard to enjoy, with some exceptions (Louise Erdrich, Sally Rooney). I am usually not averse to experimental fiction, concept/idea novels, books without plot or resolution, AT ALL, but this year, sadly, I found so many of the books on the list to be frustrating rather than provocative or exciting. A part of me wants to blame publishing, writers, and pandemic trends, but, as I am the common denominator, I am sure the problem is me, my attention span, and maybe (maybe?) a certain level of malaise from everyday life during these past two pandemic years. In the end, regardless of why, my reaction makes me feel incurious, and that really bums me out, as I actually consider curiosity to be one of my core values.

So, I think the remedy for this discontent must be to read a classic as a counterbalance to the new books. I want something that hopefully sheds light on universal human experience. Last summer I read Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, using the schedule provided by Emily of the Book Cougars, and I loved it. There were definitely morsels of wisdom about finding happiness and understanding the hedonic treadmill alongside the penetrating psychological depth of his characters that I wouldn’t mind finding in another Tolstoy novel.

 Also, it was probably the second time in my adult life where I deliberately spent more than a month on a book (the first time was reading Ulysses by James Joyce in 2013, which actually involved reading two other books at the same time, to help me figure out what the world was going on). Usually, I read a book in a few days’ time, at most. I have built in reading habits throughout my day and usually don’t want to put my selected books down. But for Anna K and Ulysses, I made a reading plan and generally stuck to it (until I just couldn’t help myself). By breaking the books down into manageable bites, I was able to ease into the intimidating aspects of them, perhaps getting used to the style or, in the case of Joyce, used to existing within chaos. Also, there was something rewarding about taking my time and stopping after a certain page count each day. I was forced to think about each smaller section as I continued my non-reading day, and certain scenes or lines stuck with me more than they would have, had I wolfed down the book 100 pages at a go.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized a long, slow read is what I need. It doesn’t hurt that I live in Chicago where the weather and the conditions of the pandemic are keeping me indoors and at home most of the time. Also, in normal times, an actual deterrent to reading W&P would be my inability to lug around a paper copy to and from work. I have been working remotely for almost two years now, so how could I not take advantage of this time? I do read ebooks, but I prefer codex form, any day of the week, especially for big books.

2 lbs. 8 oz.

As for my other reading project with a deadline — this would be reading through the Inspector Gamache/Three Pines series by Louise Penny. And once again, the more I thought about it the more I realized that this specific project should in no way hinder my ability to handle the Tolstoy. Again, the existence of this particular reading project is actually a reason to read W&P. As a cozy mystery series, the Gamache books are the perfect companion to a Big Important Book. I guess, if W&P is my counterbalance to the newer titles I’m having a hard time with, then Louise Penny will be a counterbalance to my counterbalance (Aside: I also have maybe 4 or 5 drafts of different Louise Penny blog posts that I have been struggling to complete; the series is about so much beyond cozy mystery. I hope to be able to properly distill it into this blog some day.). Moreover, the project’s deadline is not really a defined deadline yet, I just would like to finish the series before the Amazon Prime series is released, and so far, I do not think a release date has been set.

And thus, I convinced myself. 

But I do not think I convinced Freya.

Probably to make the decision more real, I posted about reading War and Peace in the comments on a Book Cougars’ Facebook post, and Chris, who is co-host of the Book Cougars podcast and who blogs at Stay Curious, reached out to ask if I’d do a Buddy Read. To which I gave a resounding YES. I’m so excited to read this with Chris, who had this wonderful post about it (favorite line might be about which books make it to the death bed). I also think I’ve recruited a couple coworkers and a best friend from college into reading it, though not necessarily on the same schedule.

I will be reading the Briggs translation, which I saw on a number of blogs as the most accessible to beginners. I really love the Pevear and Volokhonsky cover, and I’m certain that it would also be a rich reading experience, but I just went with the choice that is supposed to be easiest for me.

In conclusion, I really can’t not read War and Peace in 2022. If not now then when?

Now is the time. As in, right now. Bye! 

(I certainly hope to post more while reading or after having read it, but I think I’ve definitely written enough about deciding to read it at this point!)