That’s the correct title for Anna Karenina. I can understand why Tolstoy’s publisher’s marketing people axed the idea. Censorship difficulties. Fear of going viral with the wrong demographic: the church, the Tzar, the Cheka.
A woman’s name carries a singular focus along with the chance to slap a pretty face on the cover. Enough to get men with money to buy.
Between the covers is a different story.
It’s Anna and Vronsky vs Levin and Katerina (Kitty, but let’s not use that name – I find it demeaning). At my current place in the story, it’s evident that the two couples portray opposites. Their contrasts are the tools for hammering Tolstoy’s moral worldview into the gap between your thoughts. It works on me as it has for centuries.
Anna and Vronsky’s existence comes across to me as unreal. The whole premise of their relationship is an unfathomable train wreck. With everyone getting inconclusive blame for the mess. Yes, I’ve had aunts who eloped and had affairs. But I can’t “get” what they see in each other. Its sounds like a dull mix of ego fluffing and sex without the sex.
The sections on Levin and Katerina feels like a relief after the nuttiness of Anna and Vronsky. Parts of Levin’s worldview feels vaguely familiar. The best I can frame it come from this quote:
At each step he experienced what someone would experience who, having admired the smooth, happy progress of a little boat across a lake, should then actually get into that boat. He saw that it was not enough to sit there evenly without rocking; that one had to think, too, without forgetting for a moment where one was going, that beneath one’s feet was water, and that one must row, and that his unaccustomed hands would hurt, and that it was only easy to look at, but doing it, though quite joyful, was also quite difficult.
Tolstoy, Leo. Anna Karenina (The Margellos World Republic of Letters) (p. 439). Yale University Press. Kindle Edition.
I’ve been on that boat countless time. Most often in the early days of my marriage. That passage opens a crate of realisations and memories. The load hefty enough to stop me from reading. Tolstoy, like Vodka, is best in small sips. Unlike Vodka he won’t kill you.
Yes, this post has rambled, and there isn’t any sex. If you got here because go the clickbait, now you’ve learned something – read Tolstoy. Throw out the Vodka, social media and the TV.
You’ll be glad you did.
Cerno 