I have to admit that I was not aware that this novella was told from the point of view of a woman until the third page. This made it a little difficult for me up top; because whenever I read a first-person narrative, I naturally insert what I know about the author's portrait into the character. And so, even after I discovered that the narrator was a young, beautiful woman, I kept imagining her stroking her beard flirtatiously. Soon, thankfully, I managed to abandon my preconceived notions and accept Marya as the exquisite belle and semi-heroine of this didactic tale of passion, romance, and love. You would think those three things are synonymous, but they turn out to be distant relatives rather than intimate siblings.
I also want to add that this is the first work of Tolstoy that I've ever read. I'm sure he has been doing fine without my business, but it's nice to see what everyone was raving about for so long. I kind of feared that I would not be as amused by him as the everyday russophile. But since I am enamored with almost anyone who can complete a thought in print, I found him to be the sagacious, incisive scribe that warrants the adulation he receives among Slavic language professors and shopping mall Santas.
Marya Alexandrovna, orphaned at the impressionable age of 17, lives on her estate with her sister, Katya, completely unaware of what to expect from her impending adulthood. The only thing she is sure of is the confidence and serenity she gains from the company of an old family friend, Sergey Mikhaylych. This middle-aged man appears to have all the answers. He is refined, considerate, pious, and patient. Although he has the resources of the upper class, he has the wants of a peasant, appreciating all that is simple and wonderful about life. Over a year's time, he instills these values into Masha (Russians and their nicknames), who seems easier to mold than a clay ashtray. "He was right in saying that the only certain happiness in life is to live for others," she tells herself.
Their love simmers, and just when it's about to boil, Sergey tries to extinguish the whole thing with reason. He is too old for her, he explains. Marya will want to experience the adventures that youth promises, while Sergey has already past the stage of curious thrill seeking. Marya takes offense to how he patronizes her feelings, claiming that her love is not a youthful fad but an actual soul-driven truth. Taking her word at face value, Sergey rejoices aloud without ever thinking to knock on wood.
"I have lived through much, and now I think I have found what is needed for happiness. A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to to people to whom it is easy to do good...then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbour-- such is my idea of happiness. And then, on the top of all that, you for a mate, and children, perhaps -- what more can the heart of a man desire?"
Could anything sound more ominous? I was expecting something in the department of consumption or a miscarriage. However, Sergey's initial fears about Masha's youthful longings turn out to be the culprit (he's so wise!) as their post-nuptial bliss deteriorates in the midst of life's cruelest offering: stasis. Marya becomes bored with life in the country and seeks newness in "society." Her husband obliges, and they take off for Petersburg unaware they just left the Garden of Eden. Over the next three years, Marya becomes the life of the party, collecting admirers from all corners and making head-turning entrances in ballroom after ballroom. Their relationship suffers, transforming into nothing more than a legal status. What once was a constant rapture had become an albatross. "When we were by ourselves, which we seldom were, I felt neither joy nor excitement nor embarrassment in his company: it seemed like being alone." Ouch.
This downward spiral comes to a head when Marya becomes the object of an Italian man's affection. What appears to be the beginning of a torrid affair ends with a salacious kiss on the cheek. Marya, who has already birthed one child by this point, realizes that she has walked out of her comfort zone and desperately seeks to return to that simpler time when she enjoyed tea in a parlor and smelling lilac bushes. But it ain't that easy. Sergey, the voice of reason and sometimes God, fails to embrace his wife in the same manner he originally did (although he does father another child with her right quick). His coolness troubles Masha who eventually confronts him with her womanly charm: tears and accusations.
Sergey just laughs and delivers his final lecture on life and love in which we learn that love has many phases. In it, he explains that it is impossible to return to the initial romance that unites two people. However, there is a fuller, deeper, long-lasting love that follows the trials and tribulations a marriage endures. It is this phase that they should recognize and embrace. Masha finally gets it, and the two begin part three of their journey together, which has something to do with her washing a child and his bickering with a magistrate.
I'm sure this story is not considered one of Tolstoy's grandest moments. I, however, enjoyed the piece in its entirety and dug the philosophical nature of its structure. The first part of this story builds up the ideal. Everything is just so perfect, and love is a grand emotion that has no consequences. I thought it all seemed ridiculous, but then I just got sad as this perfect world crumbled, and I even hoped that they would return to their initial zealousness. Instead, it ended on a very quiet yet tender note. And while the story begins with a pronounced fairy tale quality, it fleshes out as more of a fable. For there is a clear message, and it is certainly true about everything that offers an emotional high -- not just love.
