A couple of weeks ago I finished Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. Out of all the infamous 19th century Russian novels, this may have been the one I expected to enjoy least. Perhaps it was because my edition was headlined as "One of the greatest love stories in world literature," or maybe it was the rather unhappy woman pictured on the front. Whatever it was, I am happy to say that my fears were not at all justified. It was a very good book, which I found much easier than War and Peace. I think that some of the things I thought would turn me off the book actually helped me like it all the more. For example, Anna Karenina is almost entirely a personal novel in that it has a setting that only involves a small, intimate group. War and Peace, conversely, is a grand historical novel, set largely during Napoleon's wars in Europe. While I enjoy both types of novels I find the personal setting easier to read, which is a rather startling reversal of my earlier tastes in books. For a good portion of my childhood and youth I was inclined to choose "dry" histories over many fiction novels, whose pleasures I discovered later and only very gradually.
One of my favorite parts of the book were the scenes surrounding Levin's engagement and marriage to Kitty (now I've definitely left myself open to charges of sentimentalism). During this time Levin is described as having an unfailingly positive outlook on mankind. He can clearly see that all the people around him are truly good, and that their minor faults are more than made up by their essential good-hearted nature. He is completely filled with love for his fellow men, and is willing to embrace any of them. And while many look upon him with gentle condescension for his love-struck attitude, they cannot help but share in his happiness. I believe that there is some wisdom in this attitude of love that cannot quite be grasped with a more "practical" outlook. A bit of this wisdom is shown by how others react to Levin: they reciprocate his kindliness with their own, although they almost seemed surprised at their own actions. There is a basic truth here, that kindness begets kindness, and an easy way to make the world a better place is to see the goodness in the people around you. But I don't think this is merely a matter of perspective; seeing that goodness will encourage it to grow in them. But of course this really isn't an easy task, it is a lifelong task. One more thing: near the end of the book Anna adopts the opposite outlook, and this helps drive her to despair. The question is: if there is legitimacy in Levin's attitude of seeing people as good, is there equal legitimacy in Anna's tendency towards hatefulness. I fear that there might be, for we all contain both love and hate, but Anna Karenina shows the terrible consequences of focusing on the latter.
Enough with my amateur efforts at literary analysis and philosophy, at least for the night.
My birthday was about a week and a half ago (September 22nd, shared with Bilbo and Frodo!). So now I am 21, and enjoy all the basic rights and privileges of an adult. Not that much has changed in my actual life. I did go to a bar, but only to split one pitcher of Smitwicks between four friends. I came back out quite coherent, which is good since it was a Tuesday. I hope that I don't embrace adulthood too much, and was pleased to receive The Complete Fairy Tales by George MacDonald as a reminder that there is no need to leave childhood delights behind when we grow up. The other side of the equation was shown by by sister's gift: a large water bottle sealed with duct tape and labeled, also on duct tape, "Freakin' Delicious Polish Whiskey." It is, in fact, quite good. The package gave me a good, long laugh, so thanks to Mira. Finally, I got a great surprise when I looked out the window on the morning of my birthday, thanks to Adrianna, that indomitable pillar of cheerfulness. Here's the picture!
