Classics and the Western Canon discussion

Translator Tony Briggs gave this advice to a well-read man who was reluctant to read War and Peace because he would have to read it in translation:

“Dive in media res. Go straight to volume 2, part 4, and read it all, only 13 chapters....

"There's nothing very sensational here, just the domestic life of a landed Russian family in the autumn and over Christmas. But wow, the wolf-hunt and the evening after, the young people falling in love, troika rides under the stars, family celebrations, dancing, vodka, singing, happy youth and contented middle age...it makes life seem so good. Virtually nothing will have been lost by your not knowing Russian because this work depends hugely on events, (mis)adventures, character and ideas. All of these can be transferred from mind to mind even in translation. They are more numerous, challenging and inspiring in Russian literature than anywhere else.”

And that, dear readers, is where we are now, in the heart of Russia and one of my favorite parts of the book.

Lots of hunting in Book VII. Though Laurele loves it, I confess I've never "gotten" the wolf hunt. Is it metaphor?

How on earth can seeing the wolf being throttled by the dogs be the "happiest moment of [Nicholas's] life?

I would welcome help as to the significance of this hunt.

I am not sure we can agree with this, but it is a fascinating comparison.

The Bible legend tells us that the absence of labor- idleness- was a condition of the first man's blessedness before the Fall. Fallen man has retained a love of idleness, but the curse weighs on the race not only because we have to seek our bread in the sweat of our brows, but because our moral nature is such that we cannot be both idle and at ease. An inner voice tells us we are in the wrong if we are idle. If man could find a state in which he felt that though idle he was fulfilling his duty, he would have found one of the conditions of man's primitive blessedness. And such a state of obligatory and irreproachable idleness is the lot of a whole class- the military. The chief attraction of military service has consisted and will consist in this compulsory and irreproachable idleness.

I recall a veteran describing warfare as "days of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror."

Joshua wrote: "...But I think that a reader who starts out in the middle of the novel misses out...."

Josh -- thx for your thoughtful post.

But I didn't read Briggs as suggesting one should start in the middle of the novel. I understood Briggs as addressing one person with a particular objection, i.e., having to read in translation. Briggs, having done a translation, must have known well that in many passages, language nuances did get lost. But, he would also have known the text well enough to readily select a section where language made little difference. I didn't read this anecdote at all as suggesting most readers start with Book 7, just, if you have any doubts about language, use this excerpt to understand W&P is rich enough and full of life enough to read anyway.

Zeke wrote: "Lots of hunting in Book VII. Though Laurele loves it, I confess I've never 'gotten' the wolf hunt. Is it metaphor?

How on earth can seeing the wolf being throttled by the dogs be the "happiest mom..."

Zeke, personally I didn't take the wolf hunt as metaphor, but I don't particularly perceive layers of symbolic meanings when I read Tolstoy -- I find his stories just so full of life (and death) as they are. And I may well miss other levels of understanding.

To me, the wolf hunt was closer to just one of those realities of life on the steppes or whatever region of vast Russia this was -- rather like the necessity of thinning the wolf pack in Yellowstone Park from time to time. Nikolai was a soldier -- wolf hunting seemed to have had some of the same thrill of the joy of horsemanship and tactical skills in a far less severe environment than war. I was also reminded of fox hunting associated with estates and wealth in England. It is being outdoors with some of the same wonder and demands of perhaps downhill skiing. (The dynamics of Natasha's presence are fun to observe from a character perspective, as well as a statement of the customs and expectations of the time.)

Hunting is brutal, it is cruel. But stadiums today fill to watch football, which isn't necessarily less kind to the participants.

I agree with you Lily. I don't find Tolstoy to be a powerful metaphorical writer, his skills (I think) lays in his ability to describe events from the perspectives of many different and interacting people in a simple and fair manner.

Nicholas at the wolf hunt was, in his own mind, the master of his domain. Taking the place of the old count, sadly in more ways than one. It must have been euphoric for him.

The wolf hunt is sad as it emphasises the dismissal of financial affairs. Nicholas had a go at setting the financial affairs in order, but it was too hard and hunting was much more fun. It made him universally happy, unlike trying to figure out carrying things from one page to the next (ie the financial matters).

It is a sad moment for us, the readers, as we had this inkling of hope that Nicholas, having gained some leadership skills and developed as a man in the army, would come and take over the reigns of the estate and set everything right. His mother and father both had high hopes for him. He even had high hopes for himself.

The hunt really represents himself following in the footsteps of his father, he is going to be led around by his lessers. He is not a leader in this hunt, he does as he is told, he has a good dog that works well for him (anyone recall how he acquired the dog?), but otherwise he is really just an observer, but he is loving it and feeling amazing.

He lets the rival estate owner lead him. Nicholas intends to dislike the man, but instead follows him around well out of his way to his estate, and then engages in a pissing contest with him.

The "Uncle"'s dog catching the hare was driving home the point that Nicholas is young and weak.

Thank you for the assessment above (@8), Cass. It took my thinking about the situation directions it had not particularly traveled.

The old count fumbling with his snuff box seems to be a counterpart to the "seasoned" wolf who is finally brought down by the hunters' dogs. Older men have so far not fared well in this book. I think of the grumpy Prince Bolkonsky, the doddering Count Rostov, Kutuzov falling asleep in an important war council. The Uncle is a nice change from that, but he is also an outsider, a man who refuses government service and sticks to his pastoral nature -- clearly this keeps him young at heart. (And I love his house.) For the most part Tolstoy shows Age merely as a foil to the vivacity of Youth. It seems to me, at this point anyway, that he gives the benefits of Age short shrift.

I certainly felt that the description of the hunt highlighted some of the cruelty of it. Wasn't Tolstoy a vegetarian?

Also, to me, it seemed a little like some of his detailed descriptions of the logistics and layouts of the various battlefields. In some ways it seemed to echo and foreshadow battlefield scenes.

I do love the way that book seven gave me such an intimate insight into the way of life of both Russian aristocrats as well as rural life in general - especially the Russian folk culture. Because of what the reader knows about what was likely to happen in 1812 (based on history) I was left with the sad but distinct fear that this was a way of life was going to be disturbed in the very near future. I like the way Tolstoy takes these moments of transition and draws them out in slow and beautiful detail. I felt the same way about the passage in book six that involved Prince Andrew and the oak tree, the night, the singing - Andrew's personal life was about to change just as the collective life of the Russians is about to change toward the end of book 7.

Joshua wrote: " “Dive in media res. Go straight to volume 2, part 4...."

Hi Laurele-

So just to preface my remarks, I was actually well into War & Peace when I stumbled onto this reading group, which I'm so exc..."

Good post, Josh. I would never start in the middle of a book, and I don't think Briggs would, either. He just saw this as the only way to get his correspondent ( I think he was a British MP) to get into this marvelous book.

Your descriptions are perfect.

Zeke wrote: "I am not sure we can agree with this, but it is a fascinating comparison.

The Bible legend tells us that the absence of labor- idleness- was a condition of the first man's blessedness before the ..."

This poem doesn't exactly correspond with what Tolstoy is saying here, but it's by my favorite poet and it immediately came to mind, so I'll throw it in:

¶ The Pulley.

When God at first made man,
Having a glasse of blessings standing by;
Let us (said he) poure on him all we can:
Let the worlds riches, which dispersed lie,
Contract into a span.

So strength first made a way;
Then beautie flow’d, then wisdome, honour, pleasure:
When almost all was out, God made a stay,
Perceiving that alone of all his treasure
Rest in the bottome lay.

For if I should (said he)
Bestow this jewell also on my creature,
He would adore my gifts in stead of me,
And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature:
So both should losers be.

Yet let him keep the rest,
But keep them with repining restlesnesse:
Let him be rich and wearie, that at least,
If goodnesse leade him not, yet wearinesse
May tosse him to my breast.

--George Herbert, 1633

Lily wrote: "Zeke wrote: "Lots of hunting in Book VII. Though Laurele loves it, I confess I've never 'gotten' the wolf hunt. Is it metaphor?

How on earth can seeing the wolf being throttled by the dogs be the ..."

Lily, I should read your responses before I post my own. Exactly, on the beginning in the middle. And here, too. Wolf hunting was just something that upper class Russian men did when they were out in the country and the season is right and they knew their dogs were well trained and they had plenty of serfs able to do the hard parts of it. I'm glad we have men today who don't find that a joy. And I'm glad we don't have serfs. But that was the way it was, and what it was, Tolstoy described as if he were scripting a movie.

Patrice wrote: "As he says, at some point, sleep is the most important thing to have before a battle. ."

That is deliciously ironic, isn't it? But I don't think it was contempt -- it feels to me like resignation. Kutuzov was a master strategist, or perhaps tactician is the better term here. He just knew that he could not override the decisions of Alexander, so he dozed off. (This actually seems impossible to me, but that's the way Tolstoy portrays it.)

Pierre here is Everyman (the universal Everyman, not our own Everyman). The dogs are his sins, or temptations, or, as he calls them, passions. He knows he can not deal with them without help from above. He's still a bit hazy about how to get that help.

Patrice wrote: "I didn't think that Tolstoy was dismissing Kutusov but expressing the contempt that an old and experienced warrior has for strategizing. Kutusov knew that battles were unpredictable and never followed a plan. As he says, at some point, sleep is the most important thing to have before a battle. "

I agree with this. I felt Tolstoy represented Kutusov as a strong leader. He slept not because he was tired, but to show his contempt at his being ousted. The comment about sleep being more important was his parting shot at the new young leaders. He was telling him they were fools and he was not taking part it in.

A bit like Pontias Pilate - he was washing his hands of the matter.

Contempt may not be the best word, perhaps resignation was more domminant. It was the changing of the guard, and it must have been a hard moment for him.

Zeke wrote: "Lots of hunting in Book VII. Though Laurele loves it, I confess I've never "gotten" the wolf hunt. Is it metaphor?

How on earth can seeing the wolf being throttled by the dogs be the "happiest mom..."

It seems important to me that everything in this book is so Russian, worlds away from the Western interests of the capitals. People are close to the earth and close to Russianness. Tolstoy's description of Natasha's dance at her uncle's house seems to encapsulate that: "Where, how, and when had this little countess, brought up by an émigré Frenchwoman, sucked this spirit in from the Russian air she breathed, where had she gotten these ways, which should have been long supplanted by the pas de châle?" (Don't know what the pas de châle is, but it has a foreign sound about it.) (2.4.7, 7.7). It's the Romantic idea that the peasants have the genuine spirit of the people, and the aristocrats are constantly in danger of losing it.

The mumming looks like a peasant tradition of the place.

Natasha is a sort of human barometer. Unlike Pierre and Andrei, she doesn't seem to think things through much, but she is sensitive to her surroundings. Nikolai doesn't think things through much either, and he's her brother.

A lovely story.

Great story, Patrice.

Matthew wrote: "Natasha is a sort of human barometer."

so true!

Patrice wrote: "Nor do her parents think things through! But they are all so happy! Is Tolstoy telling us something there? Great post Matthew.

That little dance of Natasha's really was wonderful. It reminded ..."

I loved the account of your grandmother's dance.

Patrice wrote: "...So when Natasha danced, it warmed my heart in a special way. She brought the spirit of my grandmother back to me. My grandmother was born in 1885. This book does not seem so long ago to me. ..."

Patrice -- thank you for sharing such a beautiful story.

Patrice wrote: "So when Natasha danced, it warmed my heart in a special way. She brought the spirit of my grandmother back to me. My grandmother was born in 1885. This book does not seem so long ago to me. "

Lovely. It makes me want to know more about the lives of my grandmothers.

I also enjoyed that story, thanks for sharing Patrice!

Joshua wrote: "[How's that for a first post? Sorry it's so long.]."

For a first post, it shows that you are exactly the kind of poster this group celebrates. Welcome, and let us hear lots more from you.

As to the substance of your post, about Tony Briggs's comment and your response "But I think that a reader who starts out in the middle of the novel misses out," you are of course right but I also understand Briggs's point. His advice was to a person reluctant to read W&P, and I think he was really saying "read this, and it will compel you to go back and read the whole work."

That said, I admit that I'm one of those who finds the war sequences of reduced interest, and agree with Laurel that this part of the novel has a special character in taking us to the heart of Russian life. But the novel is "War and Peace" in that order and perhaps you are right that it is only because and after we have gone through the war that we can more greatly appreciate this section of the peace.

Patrice wrote: "I thought that the wolf hunt was symbolic of life. Predators and prey. Life as war.
Everyone is either victim or victimizer."

Partly that. But doesn't the wolf hunt express a deep seated aspect of the human character? There is a certain love of violence which is reaches back to the boxing and wrestling sports of the Olympic games, is perhaps best exemplified in the Roman Colosseum and in the delight Medieval societies took in attending hangings, which is a fairly constant thread running through society all the way up to the Spanish bullfight and even today to the American love of football.

I suspect, though this is a guess, that Tolstoy may have been offering the wolf hunt as in some way parallel to the war sequences, that even in times of peace there is a human love of battle, violence, and conquest, and that peace isn't always all that peaceful.

Matthew wrote: "It seems important to me that everything in this book is so Russian, worlds away from the Western interests of the capitals. People are close to the earth and close to Russianness. Tolstoy's description of Natasha's dance at her uncle's house seems to encapsulate that: "Where, how, and when had this little countess, brought up by an émigré Frenchwoman, sucked this spirit in from the Russian air she breathed, where had she gotten these ways, which should have been long supplanted by the pas de châle?" "

A really nice comment. Yes, the Rusianness of this novel is overwhelming, and the episode you chose is a perfect example of it and of Tolstoy's belief that there is a special value of Russianness which is almost genetically embedded in the Russian people.

Cass wrote: "The wolf hunt is sad as it emphasises the dismissal of financial affairs. Nicholas had a go at setting the financial affairs in order, but it was too hard and hunting was much more fun. It made him universally happy, unlike trying to figure out carrying things from one page to the next (ie the financial matters)."

I like that observation. I hadn't picked up on the contrast between the simple excitement of the hunt vs. the hard slog of the estate accounts, but it makes perfect sense. Thanks for bring that to my attention.

Everyman wrote: "I suspect, though this is a guess, that Tolstoy may have been offering the wolf hunt as in some way parallel to the war sequences, that even in times of peace there is a human love of battle, violence, and conquest, and that peace isn't always all that peaceful. "

This was along the same lines of how I was thinking about it as well.

Patrice wrote: "I think that is true but I think the wolf hunt also set us up for what happens between Anatole and Natasha."

Interesting!

What I liked about this chapter is that is showed us the Rostovs as a family- how they live and interact. I felt as if Tolstoy was showing me perhaps a family memory belonging to himself or a close friend.
I then had a nap. And woke up because my husband was watching Currie Cup Rugby. And shouting loudly for his team. Apparently, I shouted to him: Sssh! Russia doesn't play rugby!
O dear...