‘War and Peace’ by Leo Tolstoy (Review)

After flying through a whole pile of short translated fiction recently, I was left with a lot of reviews to write – meaning that I needed a book which would give me time to catch up with my blogging duties.  Hmm, a big novel that I’ve been meaning to reread for some time…  I think I might just have the right book for the job 😉

*****
Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace (translated by Rosemary Edmonds) is, by any definition, a big book.   It is a great novel about a great war, at the time one of the biggest and most destructive ever.  The novel starts in 1805, and the first book (125 pages) introduces the reader to our dramatis personae.  The second book then takes us through their experiences at and during the Battle of Austerlitz – and that’s just the start.  We then follow our characters through the the years of an uneasy cold war until Napoleon attacks Russia in 1812, which is when the story really begins.  Finally, Tolstoy adds an epilogue of seven years to tell us how our friends fared after the defeat of the French – plus some philosophical musings to finish it all off.

As I said, it is a big book 😉

War and Peace is an epic, and its scope allows us to follow Tolstoy’s creations across a decade as they grow up, grow old and (in some cases) change.  We see Natasha Rostov as a sprightly girl, then as a beautiful young debutante.  Later she matures, learning from mistakes and hardened by the necessities of the war, finally achieving motherhood in the epilogue.  Another of the major characters, Pierre Bezuhov, appears on the stage as a plump, naive buffoon, but the war gives him the opportunity for him to show his true colours; by the end of the novel, he is a familiar, middle-aged friend.

Although the characters change in many ways, just as in real life, they only change within the constraints of their personalities.  Those who turn out to be disappointing people have the germ of this disappointment in them from the very start.  The writer merely allows time to bring out what is initially partially hidden.  Boris’ snobbery, Sonya’s sanctimoniousness, Petya’s impetuosity – they are all there at the start of the novel for any reader to see.

But what is War and Peace actually about?  The answer is that it is a book about everything (which is, perhaps, why it is so long…).  Tolstoy, through his characters, ponders the big question of the meaning of life, and he uses his 1400+ pages to explore various answers.  Pierre and Prince Andrei wonder if it is about work or personal development; Maria tries education and the care of others; Boris works for his own gain, while Dolohov merely has fun wherever he can find it; Petya longs for glory, but his sister, Natasha, is aching for love.  Somehow though, nobody seems to be able to find the right answer.

Pierre is especially troubled by existential matters (when not overcome by marriage problems) and spends years looking for a reason to live.  At one point, he muses:

“Sometimes he remembered having heard how soldiers under fire in the trenches, and having nothing to do, try hard to find some occupation the more easily to bear the danger.  And it seemed to Pierre that all men were like those soldiers, seeking refuge from life: some in ambition, some in cards, some in framing laws, some in women, some in playthings, some in horses, some in politics, some in sport, some in wine, and some in government service. ‘Nothing is without consequence, and nothing is important: it’s all the same in the end.  The thing to do is to save myself from it all as best I can,’ thought Pierre.  ‘Not to see it, that terrible it.’
p.636 (Penguin Classics, 1982)

You will have to read the book to find out how (or whether) Pierre is ever able to find what he is looking for…

Much of what I have said so far applies more to the ‘peace’ side of the book, but large parts of the novel are (of course) devoted to the war.  Tolstoy paints a masterful picture of the conflict, ranging from the delusions of the commanders looking down from the heights of their posts to the experiences of the peasant soldiers on the ground.  While there is no doubt that we are on the Russian side (constant mentions of ‘our line’ and ‘our troops’ ensure we never forget who we want to win), there is no hint of jingoism or revisionist reporting – the writer is as critical of his own side as he is of the enemy.  He describes how the majority of senior officers are only interested in their own affairs, seeking to discredit rivals and ensure their own advancement.

Despite the multitude of Generals, Tolstoy believes that things happen the way they do for a reason – and that military commanders have very little to do with how wars unfold.  Despite the appeal of the ‘Great Man’ theory, the impossibility of free will and control means that the soldiers fighting hand-to-hand (or running away…) have more influence on the course of a battle than any command Napoleon might give.  In the chaos of war, letting things run their course is the only way to go…

…and this is exactly the way another of Tolstoy’s major characters (a real-life one) handles affairs.  General (later Prince) Kutuzov, the man who saved the Russian army from annihilation after Austerlitz, is recalled in his country’s hour of need – but he is not exactly the epitome of a knight in shining armour.  He is an old man, in need of sleep and a good meal, and he is unwilling to rush things in the way his advisers would like him to.

However, it is this reliance on ‘patience and time’ that eventually brings success.  The General allows events to happen as they should and prevents people from doing stupid things for no reason – which is perhaps the best thing a commander can do.  In part then, War and Peace is just as much a demand for the reappraisal of the actions of the much-maligned Kutuzov as it is a novel.

One more thing that War and Peace is known for though is the second half of the epilogue, forty-odd pages of metaphysical ramblings that sum up the ideas Tolstoy has just spent 1400 pages setting out.  In that sense, it is akin to putting up a ten-foot barbed-wire fence on the home straight of a marathon race, expecting the reader to increase their mental efforts just when they were hoping for a nice, easy jog to the finishing line.

It is important though because this is where Tolstoy tells you what it is all about (‘it’ being everything, of course).  I won’t claim to have understood it all, but the main focus is on the idea of free will versus necessity, and you begin to get a sneaking suspicion that Tolstoy’s answer to all of his questions happens to be God.  Which is great if you are a Christian.  If you are not, it is a bit like reading a murder novel and then finding out that the killer is never revealed…

I will let Tolstoy finish this off for himself though, as after all that writing, he probably does it better than I could.  The very last sentence of the novel reads:

“In the present case it is similarly necessary to renounce a freedom that does not exist and to recognise a dependence of which we are not personally conscious.” p.1444

My last sentence?  War and Peace is actually a very readable and enjoyable novel – don’t let my review put you off 😉

30 thoughts on “‘War and Peace’ by Leo Tolstoy (Review)

  1. I got through mine the other u=year but only half blogged it I may do something like this later in the year I ve a number of long novels and a huge backlog of books ,all the best stu

    Like

  2. I read this novel last year and it's one of the best novels I ever read! I never felt characters more real than Pierre and Natasha. And the meditations on historiography, free will and the meaning of life, they're so delicate and well pondered, you have to admire the effort Tolstoy put into it!

    Like

  3. Jackie – A long book is sometimes just a book which happens to be long. I honestly don't know why people are so wary of reading something which nearly everyone agrees is a great book, just because it's going to take a while 🙂

    Like

  4. Lizzy – Hmm, best of all time? I'm not quite prepared to go there 😉 I think if I were more religious, I would probably have it right near the top – as I'm not, I'm not convinced…

    Definitely an all-time classic though – is that enough? 😉

    Like

  5. Stu – It's a hard book to review because of the size – this was actually intended to be a short, introductory look at it. Somehow, that plan didn't quite go as I'd envisaged

    Like

  6. Gary – I just picked it up in the bookshop ten years ago, knew it was supposed to be famous and read it when I got home. Sometimes it's best to just dive into things without thinking about them too much 😉

    Like

  7. Miguel – Absolutely 🙂 The characterisation is probably the strongest point of the novel – these are *real* people. The meditation and pondering? I'm not quite such a big fan of that as you 🙂

    Like

  8. Tony – you are a brave man to actually read this. Most of us are content to have read about it. the forty pages of metaphysical ramblings must have been a bit tedious at that stage. Much as I appreciate your review I think I'll leave this one on the shelf for now

    Like

  9. Thank you Tony. I have a copy and it's nice to hear of someone simply reading it and enjoying it. Respect can get in the way of approaching books with this level of fame can't it? But they're famous because they're good, it's easy to forget that so the reminder is welcome.

    Like

  10. Max – That's it exactly; these books are famous because they're good. Why read three or four mediocre new releases when you can enjoy a stone-cold dead-set classic instead? 😉

    Like

  11. I am (very) belatedly catching up with my feed reader and just wanted to say congratulations on finishing W&P. I loved it but then found myself getting tangled in knots trying to explain to anyone why, there were just many angles to mention – though maybe a couple of years later I could have another read and another try? I totally agree with you about the philosophical musings towards the end, 'akin to putting up a ten-foot barbed-wire fence on the home straight of a marathon race' is a a great way to describe it. I flew through the book and then took about twice as long to read the last hundred pages or so. I do love it though and I'm rather militant about every serious reader trying it at least once in their life. 🙂

    Like

  12. I found the philosophy at the end confusing. Tolstoy spends the whole book showing what war really is, how it is just the sum of thousands of decisions, psychology and the flaws of men. He lets you see all the moving parts, how they interconnect and how the fuel themselves like some gruesome perpetual motion machine. But then the last fifty pages try and prove this very same point with logic. It says ‘this is what war is, what history really is, and all the historians, they just don’t understand it like I do’.

    My confusion is this. Why, when you have spent over twelve hundred pages profoundly illustrating the complexity of war, would you feel the need to prove, using logic, anything more on this topic in the last forty?

    Like

  13. Adam – I wouldn't, but then I'm not Tolstoy. It's like an artist being unable to leave the painting alone – one last brush stroke…

    Like

  14. I’m from Russia and so, I had to read it in high school, untranslated (except for the French bits, because it was well before I started learning French) 🙂
    Till this day, I’m not sure school children can understand much of Tolstoy (or Dostoyevsky, for that matter). Their only advantage is having (relatively) enough time on their hands to read all these volumes. Hopefully, some of them will return to the classics later in life.

    I cannot say I loved W&P that much back then. As usual, Tolstoy’s idea of himself as a philosopher first, author second, his (not really called for) calling to be a mentor and a preacher, force him to bound the plot and the characters to his will despite their inner logic. And the last 50 pages, oh my…

    Like

    1. Maria – No, probably not the ideal book for a kid, and I share your concern about the last part! Nevertheless, it’s a book I enjoyed greatly, and I’m sure I’ll find the time for another reread at some point soon 🙂

      Like

      1. I think, the dilemma here is the school system tries to make schoolkids read as much classic books as possible, because it might be their only chance: if they were not acquainted with “Tolstoyevsky & Co.” in high school, they’ll probably never read them – or won’t find the time for that. This way, the curriculum gets insanely huge, especially in the last 2-3 school years.

        For example, the summer reading list for the penultimate 10th grade includes:
        – “War And Peace”, all 3 volumes
        – “Crime & Punishment”
        – at least 2 Turgenev’s novels and his short stories
        – “Oblomov” by Goncharov
        – Leskov’s novellas (and they’re not accessible at all)
        – Ostrovsky’s plays – the more the better 🙂
        – Poetry – a lot of it. XIX century stuff, predominantly
        – Literary criticism – Pisarev and Dobrolyubov.

        That’s only for 1 school year, and responsible, hard-working students like me used to try to fit it all into 3 summer months!

        The issue is, that most of these books were not written for students or schoolkids. Their thematical / philosophical / cultural depths were for educated adults to comprehend. However, to become a sophisticated adult today, you’d have, as a teenager, somehow to have navigated through tons books definitely above your understanding.

        Like

          1. I’m quite sure only a few students actually read all that in hign school. I suppose, most of them only read selected chapters, if not pages, from “War & Peace” – the ones that are most likely to help at the exams (e.g., characters’ descriptions, some key episodes like Andrey watching the skies after Austerlitz, Natasha & Sonya on summer night, Kutuzov deciding to abandon Moscow, Moscow burning, Borodino, etc.). And 95% skip all the French dialogues and the last 50 pages of philosophy altogether.

            However, I still believe it’s better than not reading the novel at all. Hopefully, some will rediscover it later in life.

            On the other side, there’s a case of Bulgakov’s “Master & Margarita” – the long-suffering book, banned by the Soviets, existing in illegal copies for decades. In the 1990-s, it entered the school curriculum! Nowadays, if you carry out a poll of random people, asking them what their favourite Russian novel is, I assure you, this one will come first with no less than 70% of votes (this popularity, to me, is a bit too much…). But – but – people actually read it and like it.

            Like

              1. Sure, that helps a lot. And “Master & Margarita” still retains some of its quirky countercultural appeal thanks to the combination of religions elements, early Soviet setting, social satire and reflection of Bulgakov’s real life drama as an oppressed author. The relationship of Woland and the Master is sometimes misread as an allegory of Bulgakov’s relationship with Stalin and the authorities in general (the former, it seems, existed primarily in Bulgakov’s head). Goethe’s and Gogol’s influence is strongly felt, too. And there’s also the novel’s dramatic, almost haunting history: how it was published, at long last, and the attempts to adapt it into movies.

                To me, it has been, apart from everything else, the best novel about Soviet Moscow (my hometown) as something different not only from the old one, pre-1917, brilliantly described by Gilyarovsky (”Moscow and Muscovites”, where it’s drowsy and patriarchal), but also from the latest modern incarnation (as in Pelevin’s novels? This cruel, money-grabbing vampire-city?). It epically burnt in “War and Peace”, but, luckily, that was not the end of the story.

                Like

                1. Maria – Amazingly, I’ve never managed to get to ‘The Master and Margarita’, definitely a big gap in my reading…

                  Like

Leave a reply to Max Cairnduff Cancel reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.