14 Comments

I think Joyce and Bertrand are jealous :P

No, I'm being sarcastic. But they do seem a little overly harsh in their judgements to me. I'm OK with Tolstoy riding his little hobby horse for a couple more chapters. I am intrigued by the portrait of Napoleon in this book beginning as a smart, quick-thinking general and devolving into a dude who likes the smell of his own farts, to put it crudely. And yet he remains human even in Tolstoy's eyes, and sometimes if you squint you can even pity him at this point. He's just human, like the rest of us.

Kutuzov is more fun to read, though. Maybe because I am old and tired too. And the almost slapstick disorganization of the battle of Tarutino -- except it's also still war, and still deadly, and the disorganization and petty motives and things just enhance the ultimate tragedy.

I mean, anyone who thinks writing about the absurdism of war began with WW1 literature (and I have seen this suggested, so this isn't a straw argument) needs to revisit Tolstoy.

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Absolutely, Lori. Parts of War and Peace remind me of Catch-22. And I agree about Tolstoy's portrait of Napoleon: he is still human, ordinary, pitiable. When Tolstoy was writing, no one loomed quite so large. I wonder who he'd have been writing about today? And I'm a fan of Tolstoy's logic, even if it is a little too muddled for Bertrand's taste.

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Thank you for the links. Saving Hadji Murat for later but dove straight into “Consider the Hare.” A lovely — and informative! — piece. “‘The cat of the wood,’ Heaney calls them. ‘The stag of the cabbages.’ If there is magic in this world, some part of it lies with them. So if you are reading this, my love, I don’t need flowers, or jewels. Please, bring me a hare.” Finding little moments of magic (the campfires among Tolstoy’s ranting) kept me going in this week’s reading. That and your generous notes. Thanks, Simon.

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Love all of this, Mary.

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To tell the truth I am not sure I would have paid heed to these chapters if it were not for the slow read (to be fair I wouldn't be reading War and Peace of it wasn't for the slow read) but thanks to your notes and the comments of others I have found them more interesting than I thought. Also enjoyed the reading on the hare, I love watching them in the fields and can understand why they harboured the myths they do. I like to hope the wounded hare was not wounded too badly.

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This is the beauty of the slow read!

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It really is.

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I agree with Mary Vermillion — the links you provide are highlights of the weekly posts. They are consistently worth pursuing and great fun to read!

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Thanks! I wish I had more time to add more. One of my aims next year is to include more links in the revised posts. I love the rabbit holes.

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“But stay with me. All life is here. It's worth the wait.” Waiting patiently …😄

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That's the spirit!

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"What one would like to do, would be to kick the glorified soapbox from under his saddled feet and then lock him up in a stone house on a desert island with gallons of ink and reams of paper—far away from the things, ethical and pedagogical, that diverted his attention..." Yes, yes, 100% Nabokov. Either that or assign him a proper editor. But here we are (shrug). Thank you for your summaries and everyone for chat comments. I'd likely have given up on this endlessly (needlessly?) ruminative book if not for these.

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Ha, I can't stress how much I disagree with Nabokov! 😅 Well, partly. He saw Tolstoy clearly: he is unearthing the truth, and it would be a sin to get in the way, or call for an editor. But I'm glad you've stayed the course!

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Russell essentially praises Tolstoy’s ability to make sound ethical judgments and his keen eye for concrete reality—qualities that make *War and Peace* so vivid and morally powerful. But, for Russell, Tolstoy’s weakness lies in his theorising, which he dismisses as "worthless." He believed Tolstoy lacked the power of reasoning that would give intellectual rigor to his philosophical ideas.

If we combine Russell’s critique with the idea that Tolstoy’s dismantling of Napoleon was more about his own internal reckoning than a grand theory for his audience, then Russell's observation starts to make more sense.

Tolstoy’s philosophical musings might appear scattered or weak to someone like Russell, who prized logical consistency and intellectual reasoning. But if Tolstoy’s purpose wasn’t about presenting a coherent philosophy to the world—if, instead, his writing was a process of grappling with his own soul and ethical dilemmas—then his "theorising" becomes more understandable as a personal, rather than intellectual, struggle.

Russell sees Tolstoy as lacking in reasoning power, which is perhaps because Tolstoy wasn’t interested in presenting a tidy, rational argument. Instead, he was trying to understand himself on a deeper level, through the process of writing and storytelling. Russell, being a philosopher of rational clarity, might miss the more emotional or spiritual logic behind Tolstoy’s project. In fact, Tolstoy’s insistence on tearing down figures like Napoleon could be viewed as part of this soul-level exploration, where reason takes a back seat to deeper, intuitive moral perception.

What Russell calls Tolstoy’s "power of right ethical judgments" might actually stem from this very personal journey. His inability—or refusal—to present a logically consistent philosophical argument could be seen not as a failing, but as evidence of a deeper kind of wisdom: the wisdom that comes from confronting your own inner contradictions, rather than attempting to solve them in a purely intellectual way.

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