I get a chill when I read "melancholy facts" and "a certain drug to produce a certain effect." All of this reflects so darkly in the politics in the U.S. today, not only in women's autonomy over their bodies (and unnecessary and tragic deaths resulting from fear of doctors), but also in the gun culture here. "Melancholy facts" brings to mind "thoughts and prayers," as if these are all things that are an "unfortunate fact of life."
OMG my favorite chapters are on deck! What will draw the waterworks this time?
It looks like Pierre and Natasha, each in there own way, are up against the absurd reality of the world, where stuff just, well, happens. He's a prisoner of war; she is thrust into the role of caretaker for a dying man who was once her betrothed. Each has no choice but to enter the fire. "The best steel has been through the fire." Will they become worthy of each other?
I felt scattered reading this week’s chapters. As if being blown about by the winds of war, alighting for a short time, here then there. It did make me feel as if Tolstoy was trying to make me, the reader, feel uncertain, like the characters in these chapters. They are happy, sad, confused, convicted, afraid, resolved, and the list goes on. In my mind’s eye, I see leaves swirling in the air, with Moscow burning in the distance. I am unsettled.
I get a chill when I read "melancholy facts" and "a certain drug to produce a certain effect." All of this reflects so darkly in the politics in the U.S. today, not only in women's autonomy over their bodies (and unnecessary and tragic deaths resulting from fear of doctors), but also in the gun culture here. "Melancholy facts" brings to mind "thoughts and prayers," as if these are all things that are an "unfortunate fact of life."
OMG my favorite chapters are on deck! What will draw the waterworks this time?
It looks like Pierre and Natasha, each in there own way, are up against the absurd reality of the world, where stuff just, well, happens. He's a prisoner of war; she is thrust into the role of caretaker for a dying man who was once her betrothed. Each has no choice but to enter the fire. "The best steel has been through the fire." Will they become worthy of each other?
I felt scattered reading this week’s chapters. As if being blown about by the winds of war, alighting for a short time, here then there. It did make me feel as if Tolstoy was trying to make me, the reader, feel uncertain, like the characters in these chapters. They are happy, sad, confused, convicted, afraid, resolved, and the list goes on. In my mind’s eye, I see leaves swirling in the air, with Moscow burning in the distance. I am unsettled.
Hard truth: An abortion is never safe for the new growing human inside the mother's body. 😢