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War & Peace Book II

Himadri Chatterjee

Book 2, Part 1

The fourth part of War and Peace divides itself into three sections. In the first, we see Nikolai's homecoming, and the quick and dramatic breakdown of Pierre's marriage. In the second, we are taken to Bald Hills. And finally, we return to the Rostovs.

Nikolai returns home, and brings Denisov with him. He has grown a moustache now. The family is ecstatic, and reading this passage, one cannot but be infected with their joy. Natasha, particularly, is irrepressible. Amongst other things, she tells Nikolai that Sonya has released Nikolai from his vow to her. This has the desired effect (or at least, the effect desired by Sonya). Nikolai has been reminded of the vow he had made as a child; and now, he feels it dishonourable to forget about it. Sonya has kept her distance from Nikolai on his return, and once again, we notice that Nikolai - though determined to honour his promise to Sonya - has not made any noticeable effort to reduce that distance.

The Russian public has, eventually, come to terms with the disastrous defeat at Austerlitz. It was the fault of the Austrians, apparently. And Kutuzov was no good either. The Tsar - trusting as he is - did not always put his trust in the right people. But oh! the Russian soldiers and officers all behaved heroically - every one of them!

Count Rostov has been charged by his club to arrange a dinner in honour of Prince Bagration - now regarded as a hero. Count Rostov has been charged with this partly because he is so good at arranging lavish dinners; and also because he could be depended upon to advance money from his own pocket for something like this.

At the dinner, Pierre is immersed in his thoughts. His marriage, predictably, is deeply unhappy. Helene knows how to behave in society, but she is coarse, vulgar, nasty, and very, very stupid. Pierre has received an anonymous letter warning him that his wife was having an affair with his old friend, Dolohov.

At the dinner, Dolhov sits opposite Pierre with Denisov and Nikolai. Nikolai loves acting as he thinks a young soldier ought to act, and he looks down a bit on people like Pierre, who had stayed at home when his country needed him. Furthermore, Pierre had been too absorbed in his thoughts to acknowledge Nikolai's greeting.

Dolohov, ever the bully, taunts Pierre from across the table. Nikolai is quite out of sympathy with Pierre at this point, especially as Pierre does not even raise his glass when the toast to the Tsar is proposed. What's the matter with that man? At this point, Nikolai feels very much at home in Dolohov's company, and, not realising whom it is aimed at, joins in with Dolohov's indirect taunting of Pierre. Finally, Pierre loses control, and in a moment of madness, challenges Dolohov to a duel. Nikolai and Denisov agree to act as Dolohov's seconds.

Pierre knows before the duel that this is utterly stupid. But when he is given a chance to apologise, he refuses. After all, what does it matter? Pierre has never held a gun before, and carries it as if afraid that it might go off in his face. Not knowing what he is doing, he pulls the tigger. Purely by fluke, Dolohov is wounded. And when Dolohov takes aim, Pierre doesn't even have the inclination to cover himself: he presents his bulky chest to be fired at. But Dolohov is too badly hurt to be able to aim properly, and misses. And Pierre walks away with incoherent thoughts. What folly! What madness!

And Nikolai, taking the wounded Dolohov home, finds that this swaggering bully is devoted to his mother, and to his hunchbacked sister.

Pierre does not know what to do next. The thought of his wife merely arouses revulsion in him. On top of everything else, she is depraved. She allows her own brother, Anatole, to kiss her bare shoulders: it seems that the rumours of incest may well have been right. And she shows her contempt of her husband quite openly. And now, this.

Helene enters, and having waited for the valet to leave, starts haranguing Pierre. What did he mean by the duel? How dare he compromise her reputation in society? And with Dolohov - who is twice the man that Pirre is! Suddenly, Pierre senses something rising within himself that even he finds frightening: he is frightened by what he might do to her. With almost superhuman strength, he lifts up a large and heavy marble slab over his head, and smashes it to the ground. And he shouts to her to go. Helene had never imagined her mild husband could act like this, but she sees the murderous look in his face, and is terrified. She doesn't need to be told twice: she leaves. The marriage has come to an end.

***

Now, we have three chapters set in Bald Hills that are quite extraordinary in their emotional intensity. There is no news of Andrei. Kutuzov has written to Prince Bolkonsky telling him that he saw Andrei fall. The old Prince tries to keep to his usual routine, but it is no good. His son is dead, he knows: there is no point harbouring false hopes. He cannot bear to look at his daughter's eyes as he tells her the news, turning away with a sob. It is terrible to see a man such as this weep. Maria wants to share her grief with her father, but he averts his face: he does not know how to live with such sorrow. He asks Maria to tell Lise of her husband's death, adding that he will go to see her as well. But Maria cannot bring herself to tell Lise; and neither can the old man, who comes into her room, but walks out again quickly without saying a word. Eventually, father and daughter decide to tell nothing to Lise, given her condition.

As for the old prince, his strength starts to weaken.

Lise pregnancy has not been a happy time. She is frightened of her father-in-law; she also feels a personal antipathy towards him, but doesn't recognize it, as fear is the stronger emotion. When the time comes for the childbirth, she is in a dreadful state. The doctor from Moscow is late. On hearing a coach draw up, Maria runs down to greet the doctor: instead, she hears an unexpected voice. It is Andrei. On hearing what is happening, Andrei runs to his wife's room: in unbearable agony, she barely registers his presence. Andrei is told by the midwife to go to the next room. The doctor arrives, but soon, Andrei hears a scream that he cannot believe has come from Lise. And he hears the crying of a baby. Andrei goes into his wife's room, and she is lying with her face exactly where it had been before. She is dead. And her face seems to be saying to Andrei: "I love you all, and have done no-one any harm; and what have you done to me?"

Old Prince Bolkonsky, who knows all that has happened, closes his arms around his son's neck like a vice, and without saying a word, bursts into sobs like a child.

At her funeral, the dead face seems to say exactly the same thing to Andrei as it had done before: "Why have you all done this to me?" It says exactly the same thing to Prince Bolkonsky as well, and he turns away angrily.

***

We now return to the Rostovs, and the emotional temperature drops somewhat.

Nikolai's part in the duel has been hushed up, and far from being reduced to the ranks, he has been promoted yet again.

Time passes. We are now late in the year 1806. Dolohov takes a fancy to the beautiful and graceful Sonya. Everyone considers this a good match for a dowerless poor relation. But she refuses, and everyone knows why. Interestingly, Tolstoy depicts this whole episode from Nikolai's viewpoint; and Nikolai, although still swearing undying love to Sonya, wouldn't have been too unhappy to have seen Sonya accept Dolohov's hand.

Denisov is, meanwhile, charmed by the Rostovs, and particularly by the bewitching Natasha. At a ball given specially for young people, Denisov surprises everyone by taking the floor, and dancing a particularly spectacular mazurka.

Dolohov has planned a revenge for Nikolai. He knows it is because of Nikolai that he has been refused; and it isn't hard to entice someone as naive as Nikolai into a card game, and fleece him for a vast amount.

Nikolai does not know how to break the devastating news to his father. He thinks - though not seriously - that suicide is the only option. On coming home, he sees the family together, and thinks how wonderful everything would be if only he didn't have this hanging over his head. He joins his sister in a song she is singing, and almost forgets for a while the terrible truth about his situation. After all, one can do all sorts of terrible things and still enjoy life, can't one? Well, no. When his father arrives, Nikolai tells his father what has happened as if it were a small matter. And all the while, he feels how vile he is. His father does not get angry, as Nikolai had expected. And suddenly, Nikolai is so deeply ashamed of himself that this brave hussar and war hero breaks down in tears.

Meanwhile, we get a bit of comedy as well. Denisov, carried away by his impetuousness, proposes to Natasha. Natasha's immediate response is to run to her mother, who finds the whole affair more annoying than anything else. She is particularly annoyed that anyone could think her small daughter an adult. She imperiously tells Denisov that Natasha is far too young, and Denisov, apologising, leaves - although there was no reason for him to have done so: no-one had taken his proposal at all seriously.

Book 2, Part 2

In the fifth part, we see the three principal young men of the novel - Pierre, Andrei & Nikolai - all undergoing crises of some sort. First, we see Pierre. He is in mental turmoil. His life is falling apart, and he keeps asking himself questions about the nature and purpose of his life - questions he can neither answer, nor prevent himself from asking. As so often, Tolstoy finds exactly the right image: it is as if the screw holding Pierres life together has worn smooth and lost its thread, and though it turns, it cannot catch on to anything. And it can go neither in nor out, and nor can it stop turning.

It is in this state that, on a journey to Petersburg, Pierre meets Osip Alexeyevich Bazdeyev, a leading freemason. Pierre is mentally in a vulnerable state, and he has no answer to what Bazdeyev tells him. Pierres life is, indeed, in a mess; he is, indeed, searching for something better. Bazdeyev is obviously a sincere man, and a good speaker; and Pierre, as we know, is easily led. He is also easily impressed. Bazdeyevs wisdom seems to him a revelation. He accepts Bazdeyevs invitation, and becomes a freemason.

Fired by his newly found enthusiasm, he seeks to carry out reforms on his estates, to better the lives of his serfs. But he is no good at these administrative matters, and he does not realize that his attempts actually leave the peasants even worse than before. Pierre is too naïve and too trusting - and, frankly, too incompetent in these matters - to be effective.

However, his determination to lead a new life does give him the strength to reject the attempts of his father-in-law to reconcile him to his wife. More than anything else, Pierre hates saying anything disagreeable to anyone; but quite unexpectedly, he finds the strength to ask Vasily Kuragin to leave.

We see another of Anna Pavlovnas soirees - the same vacuous talk, the same affectations, the same stupidity putting on airs and passing itself off as sophistication. Pierre is regarded as a sort of insanely jealous half-wit, and Helene as an unfortunate woman who bears her cross with dignity and fortitude.

A newcomer to this world is Boris, who, through careful application of flattery to the right people (whom he has trained himself to recognize), has risen in life. The ability he has always had to make himself liked has paid dividends. Not only is he at Anna Pavlovnas soiree, but he is the star attraction there. And he has turned his back on his old acquaintances such as the Rostovs who are no longer in a position to further his career. And Helene, that unfortunate woman who bears her cross with such dignity, chooses him as her new lover. Boris does not appear unwilling.

Now, we travel once again to the very different world of Bald Hills. Andrei has removed himself from the outside world, and is building for himself a house in the nearby estate of Bogucharovo, which his father has settled on him. The marble his father had ordered to be a memorial for his son is now instead a memorial for Lise. And the statue of the memorial appears to Andreis imagination to have his wifes face; and it appears also to have that same reproachful look - Why have you all done this to me? Andrei is still haunted by that sense of guilt.

Prince Bolkonsky has weakened considerably during the days when he had thought his son dead; and physically, he is not what he was. Nonetheless, he has taken responsibility for military recruitment in his area, and Andrei helps him. Andrei is the only person who can control his fathers extreme behaviour: old Prince Bolkonskys uncompromising strictness is often indistinguishable from cruelty.

We see Andrei and Maria tending to young Nikolai, who is ill; and, for one terrible moment, Andrei thinks he is dead. Andrei also receives a letter from his diplomat friend, Bilibin, relating all the goings-on in the military and diplomatic spheres; and Andrei is disconcerted to find that he can still take an interest in such matters.

Then, his old friend Pierre visits. Despite his hermit-like existence, Andrei is happy to see Pierre, and these two deeply wounded men talk. Pierre is fired up by his newly found idealism, and speaks of them enthusiastically. But Andrei responds with a sort of world-weary pessimism. Hospitals for peasants? What is the point of patching them up so that they can get back again to their back-breaking, soul-destroying labour? When Pierre expresses relief at not having killed Dolohov, Andrei asks if it is a crime to kill a vicious dog. Andrei knows how much the Dolohovs of the world are worth - though, presumably, he has no idea what this same Dolohov means to his aged mother and hunchbacked sister. Pierre insists that one must live for others; but to Andrei, living for ones own self - and for ones family, which is a sort of extension of ones own self - is enough. But even as he says this, he knows how deeply unhappy he is.

The two men go to Bald Hills together and cross the river in a ferry. The sun is setting. Pierre is hesitant about talking about freemasonry, because he thinks Andrei would scoff at it. And Pierre is also intimidated by what he reckons to be Andreis superior intellect. But eventually, Pierre blurts it out. And he gives expression to the idealist thoughts that are welling up inside him. To his surprise, Andrei does not scoff. Everything Pierre says seems to bring home to him his own unhappiness, and the absence of Lise, whom, despite everything, he had loved. And Andrei remembers also the vast expanse of sky he had seen while wounded on the field at Austerlitz, and how it seemed to him to point to a greater truth beyond what we may perceive. Andrei is too proud to join the masons as Pierre has done (after all, how can others have found the answers that have so eluded him?) but Pierres idealism strikes a chord in Andrei.

They go to Bald Hills, where Maria, against her fathers instructions (this is the one point where she disobeys him) is receiving pilgrim travelers - Gods people, as she calls them. These pilgrims are ignorant and superstitious, and their uneducated naivety is a sort of distortion of Pierres own idealism. Maria is apprehensive that Pierre and her brother will merely find these pilgrims comical. Andrei, out of consideration for his sister, restrains his mockery, but even so manages to offend the pilgrims with an innocuous remark. Pierre speaks unthinkingly at first, but on seeing the offence he is causing, addresses these Gods people with respect and courtesy. Maria is grateful to him.

The Bolkonskys all like Pierre - even the old prince enjoys talking to him. Pierre maintains to the old prince that a day will come when there will be no war, and the old man laughs at such naivety. But he enjoys talking to him all the same, and asks him to return.

Now, we move to Nikolai, who is back with the army again. Here, he finds respite from all the complications of civilian life (and this includes the ongoing uncertainty concerning his relationship with Sonya). Here, everything is in its place, everything is simple, orders are to be obeyed, and there is no complexity. And that is the way Nikolai likes it.

He still has the generous Rostov nature: he looks after an indigent Polish family out of his own money without telling anyone, and bursts into fury when this is discovered and it is suggested that he has an interest in the young daughter.

Denisov gets himself into trouble. His men have not been supplied with food, and when an unguarded wagon with provisions for the infantry passes, Denisov commandeers it, and distributes the provisions amongst his hungry men. He is called to account for this, and, faced with a petty official, Denisov loses his temper and gives him a good thrashing. There is no avoiding it: Denisov tries to make light of it, but he will be facing a court martial. So, when he gets a mild wound which he would normally have ignored, Denisov enrolls himself into military hospital.

Nikolai visits Denisov at the military hospital, but, before he finds the officers ward, he sees the state of the ordinary soldiers in this place. It is a hell-hole, rife with disease, filth and infection. The overworked doctors and orderlies are too harassed to see to things, and even the dead dont always get removed from the living. The stench overwhelms Nikolai. The picture Tolstoy paints is horrifying.

Nikolai finds Denisov in the relative comfort of the officers ward. Tushin is there also: he has lost an arm, but somehow, remains cheerful and uncomplaining. Denisov still pretends that he doesnt care about the impending court-martial, but, left alone with Nikolai, gives him a petition to present to the Tsar on his behalf.

Peace has now broken out between the Russians and the French. Napoleon and Tsar Alexander are about to sign a treaty at Tilsit. Needless to say, Boris is there in an official position, hobnobbing with those in power. Nikolai doesnt like seeing so many in French uniform - people he is used to fighting.

Boris is not happy to see Nikolai: he is moving in different spheres now. He changes his expression as quickly as he can, but Nikolai had caught his initial look, and feels affronted. Boris can do nothing to help.

After much effort, Nikolai finds a high-ranking general whom he knows, and tells him about Denisov. The general takes the petition to the Tsar, but the Tsar refuses to help, saying loudly and ostentatiously for all to hear that he cannot stand in the way of the law, which is mightier than he.

The two emperors exchange medals and sign the treaty. Napoleon wants to award the Legion dHonneur to a brave Russian soldier and one is selected virtually at random.

Nikolai leaves in a confused frame of mind. Why is this soldier honoured when Denisov is facing a court-martial? Why all the effort to fight the French when they are now the best of friends? How can Napoleon, whom Nikolai and all the others had regarded as a criminal, be suddenly regarded as a great emperor? What was the point of all the bravery and sacrifice, of all the deaths, of all the suffering and the missing limbs he had seen at the hospital, if what they were fighting for is suddenly stood on its head? Thoughts start to crowd his mind, a mind which cannot deal with complexity; and these thoughts threaten to tear down everything he had, till then, accepted unconditionally, everything upon which his very being depends. Nikolai, much disturbed, goes into an inn and has two bottles of wine; and he hears some others in the inn saying exactly the same things that were so disturbing him, and he rounds on them with an unwonted fierceness. It is not their job to question, he asserts (both to them and to himself). As soldiers, their job is to obey commands, no matter what.

Nikolais mind is not designed for serious thought. Blind, unthinking acceptance is the only way he has out of those thoughts that threaten his very being.

Book 2, Part 3

This part starts with the re-awakening of Andrei. He has to visit the Rostovs on business matters, and in his usual world-weary way, doesnt much relish the prospect. On the way, he sees an old oak tree waving its bare branches, and identifies with it strongly. But on the drive to the Rostovs house, he sees a young girl so unlike himself, so full of the spontaneous pleasures of life, that he cant help but notice.

At the Rostovs, Count Rostov, with his usual geniality, invites Andrei to spend the night. And from his window, Andrei overhears the same girl - whom we know to be Natasha - enchanted by the beauty of the moonlit night. And Andrei feels something stirring within him - a hope for something other than what he is. Andrei is often attracted by those very qualities he knows he lacks: now, we begin to realise what it was that had attracted him to Lise. On the way back from the Rostovs, Andrei sees the same oak tree; but now, it bears the signs of new leaves.

The oak tree is what Andrei sees: the author merely tells us the perception of his character. The symbolism of the oak tree would have been heavy-handed if Tolstoy himself had insisted upon it: but it is Andrei who thinks of it in symbolic terms, and his doing so tells us much about him. Similarly, it is not necessarily Tolstoy but Natasha to whom the moonlit night appears enchanting. And what enchants Andrei is not that moonlit night, but Natashas reaction to it.

Andrei now starts to come out of his self-imposed exile. He had previously been disconcerted in discovering that Bilibins letter on military and political affairs could still arouse his interest. But now, he feels prepared to accept it, and enter into public life. He has devised a new military code of behaviour which, in this time of reform, he is keen to have considered. (Tsar Alexander II tried hard to reform government, and Speransky - who appears in this novel - was the principal reformer.) Andrei has a bad experience with the boorish and semi-educated Arakcheyev (another historical character), but is soon on friendly terms with Speransky.

Andrei has already unobtrusively achieved what Pierre had been unable to do: he has emancipated the serfs on his estate. Because of this, he is regarded in many areas as a dangerous liberal.

Pierre is a deeply unhappy and lonely man. He tries to immerse himself into the mysteries of freemasonry, ascribing his dissatisfactions (and there are many) to his own shortcomings. He prays for self-betterment, but cannot rid himself of his unhappiness. And he feels deeply uneasy about introducing Boris to the freemasons. Of course, he has no reason not to introduce him: but Boris apparent lack of commitment to the ideals of freemasonry, and his obvious desire to use freemasonry to further his career and social status, seem to make a mockery of all the questions Pierre finds still tormenting him.

The Rostovs marry their eldest daughter Vera to smug and shallow - but otherwise quite decent - Berg. In a chapter of high comedy, Berg manages to extract from Count Rostov - already financially embarrassed - a very handsome dowry. Bergs monetary shrewdness, his general sense of self-satisfaction, and his inability to question or to think deeply contrast sharply with Pierres state of mind. The Bergs have a house-warming party, and are quietly pleased at what they now take to be their modest but comfortable position in society.

Of course, a modest place in society wouldnt have been good enough for Helene. She has now affected a sort of reconciliation with Pierre, and they live under the same roof, though not as husband and wife. She is now the hostess of a glittering salon, and her soirees are attended by the most brilliant of people. And this same Helene, whom we all know as an airhead, acquires the reputation of great wit and intellect. The greatest lights of society attend her soirees, and save up their best witticisms for her. And they wonder how someone as boorish and as mediocre as Pierre could have ended up with someone so brilliant as Helene.

Pierres position, of course, is more miserable than ever. His wife is having a string of affairs. Her latest lover is a royal prince, and Pierre has just been awarded a special position in the royal court. The two circumstances are clearly related, and Pierre feels his humiliation deeply.

Boris appears to have ended his affair with Helene. The Rostovs are now in Petersburg, and Boris, without meaning to, again falls under the spell of Natasha. He does not intend to marry her, of course: that would hardly advance his career. But he still cannot resist her, and although he had cut himself off from the Rostovs some time ago, he finds himself going to their house frequently. It is only after Countess Rostov speaks to him personally that he stops coming.

Then, we have the famous scene of Natashas first ball. That Tolstoy could so pierce the minds of Pierre or of Andrei, or of Maria and her father, is remarkable; but that he could so convincingly enter the mind of a teenage girl at her first society ball is miraculous. These celebrated chapters barely need comment: Natashas hopes and fears at attending her first ball are given as much importance as the hopes and fears of Andrei going into battle. Nothing human is alien to Tolstoys sensibilities.

It is at Pierres suggestion that the brilliant Prince Andrei, who would normally look down upon the Rostovs, dances with Natasha.

Afterwards, Andrei finds himself quite a regular visitor at the Rostovs. The Rostovs themselves are somewhat apprehensive: they seem to regard the Bolkonskys as being, somehow, above their league. Of course, Andrei is a brilliant match, but when he does formally propose, there seems little of the joy one would expect from the Rostovs. The proposal is accepted, of course: Andrei is a worthy and fine man. But there seems a sense of unease, all the same.

But the unease amongst the Rostovs is nothing compared to the reaction of old Prince Bolkonsky. The Rostovs are the kind of people he had always looked down upon. Is Natasha really the sort of person to be step-mother to his grandson? He feels he is himself close to death, and cant see why everyone else should feel that they have a life of their own to attend to. Cant they at least wait till he has died?

And in fairness to the old prince, it has to be said that Andrei is possibly making the same mistake all over again. If he had been so unhappy with Lise, it seems unlikely that his marriage with Natasha would fare any better. But Andrei feels he is now a new person.

The old prince recommends a years delay while his son travels around Europe. And Andrei, knowing that ignoring this request would lead to irreparable damage in terms of family relations, agrees. The Rostovs, naturally, arent very happy with this condition, but have no option but to agree. Natasha, particularly, is very unhappy with this.

Andrei insists that the engagement should not be made public; and that although he regards himself as bound, he gives Natasha complete freedom to change her mind. He makes sure that everything he does is strictly honourable. But he does not tell Maria of the engagement right away. And when rumours start leaking out, Maria feels sure that her brother could not be betrothed to someone like Natasha. Only afterwards, does Andrei tell his sister in a letter. Why does he delay this announcement? He says in his letter that he did not want his sister to intercede on his behalf with his father: he can already see that his fathers tyranny over his sister is becoming worse. This reason sounds plausible enough. But one wonders whether he might also have felt some hidden shame at having to confess in person to his sister that he intends to marry a mere Rostov.

But Andrei had been right about his father. The old mans once mighty brain appears to be failing, and he is more tyrannical and overbearing than ever. He jokes that if his son wants to marry Natasha, then he will marry Mademoiselle Bourienne. And this tasteless joke is repeated so often, that it becomes particularly unsavoury.

Book 2, Part 4

Part Seven is relatively short, and offers us something of a lull before the dramatic events of the next part, which is the culminating section of the first half of the novel. In this part, we are with the Rostovs at their country estate outside Moscow.

Things are not going well for the Rostovs. Owing to reckless extravagance and the Counts complete inability to administer his estates, they are facing serious financial trouble. Nikolai is called back from the army to try to help sort things out.

Nikolai is as uneasy as his mother about Natashas engagement to Andrei. There is no doubt that Andrei is a fine and honourable man, but it seems clear that his father opposes the marriage; and it is further clear that this is because he looks down upon the Rostovs, and does not think that a daughter of the Rostov family is good enough to be allied to the Bolkonskys. Though nothing is said directly on this point, the Rostovs feel insulted, and are hurt that their beloved daughter could be thought of in this way.

Nikolais way of trying to deal with family finances is to accuse their steward of being a thief, and threaten to thrash him. He may or may not be right about this; but the Count feels uneasy about such matters, and Nikolai is not asked again to look into the accounts (which he does not really understand anyway).

There are also some promissory notes signed by Anna Mihalovna. The Countess does not know what to do with them. Now that Boris has moved up in the world, he and his mother have not kept touch with the Rostovs, their former benefactors. Should the Rostovs now ask Anna Mihalovna to honour these notes? Nikolai decides the issue by tearing up these notes, and declaring that he likes neither Anna Mihalovna nor Boris.

Next comes one of Tolstoys great set-pieces - the wolf hunt. Natasha and Petya insist on joining in, much to Nikolais annoyance. The hunt is described in some detail, and Tolstoy is quite happy to enter the minds of the wolf and the hounds. As with the great battle scenes, we seem to enter into the characters minds, and share not only their thoughts and sensations, but also their physical excitement.

During the hunt, they team up with a distant relative, whom they call Uncle, who lives in a small house near the Rostovs estate. They also team up with a neighbour, Ilagin, with whom they had had some disputes in the past, and whom Nikolai - without ever having known him - is prepared to dislike; but he turns out, to Nikolais surprise, to be gentle and courteous.

After the hunt, they go to Uncles house. The surroundings are very Russian, quite unlike the Westernised surroundings of the Rostovs household. Uncles housekeeper is also, quite obviously, his common-law wife. There seems to be an openness and simplicity about everything here. And when one of Uncles servants is heard playing the balalaika, Natasha is enchanted. She breaks into a spontaneous Russian dance which seems very much at odds with her fashionably Westernised upbringing.

Back home, as far as the Countess can see, the only way out of their troubles is for Nikolai to marry an heiress. Julia Karagin is an obvious choice, and Countess Rostov has ascertained from Julias mother that she would favour a match between her daughter and Nikolai. But Nikolai still feels honour bound to Sonya. He asks his mother if she would want him to act against his feelings, not realising how cruel such a question is for her. And his father, as ever, is ineffective: he feels guilty for the state of the familys finances, and realizes that his son would not have been faced with making such a choice had he been capable of managing his affairs better. Nikolai, to his parents disappointment, turns down the proposed marriage with Julia Karagin.

Nikolai is back with the family again for the Christmas holidays. He and Natasha reminisce about childhood, and Sonya feels curiously left out of the close relationship between brother and sister. Natasha has been restless. It is not that she is in love with Andrei: she barely knows him. But he is handsome, attractive, and in every way a fine match. And she longs for him. She feels herself wasting away, and her nerves are on edge. Natashas mind wanders from one thing to another, bored, restless and unable to settle: only Andrei, she feels, could cure her of this restlessness. Natasha and Sonya, out of sheer boredom, try fortune-telling. Sony cannot see anything in the mirror, but as she is supposed to, pretends to have seen someone. Natasha is convinced this is Andrei.

During the Christmas holidays, Natasha, Sonya and Nikolai dress up in fancy clothes, and pay a visit to a neighbour. The ground is covered with snow, which sparkles in the moonlight. There is an air of enchantment in the air. And suddenly, Nikolai notices how very attractive Sonya is, especially with her painted moustache and sideburns. He thinks to himself what a fool he had been to keep away from her, and convinces himself that he loves her deeply.

The idyll ends with a rupture. The Countess had been fearing this for years: Nikolai expresses his love for his cousin Sonya, and his desire to marry her. The Count is deeply embarrassed: had he only been able to manage his finances, there could have been no better match for Nikolai. The Countess is not having any of this. She makes a tart comment about Nikolai being free to marry against his parents wishes - just as Andrei is marrying against his fathers wishes. The disapproval of Andreis father is obviously something that is continuously preying on the Countess, and she cant seem to banish it from her mind, even when talking about other matters.

Since she cannot vent her rage on her son, the brunt of it falls on Sonya, who - though deeply grateful to the family that has adopted her - is accused of ingratitude. The Countess, despite her kindly nature, finds herself disliking Sonya, and enrages Nikolai by calling Sonya a scheming creature. Nikolai flares up in anger, and the Countess is stricken by terror at realizing how close she is to becoming alienated from her beloved son. Natasha makes peace for the moment, but Nikolai returns to the army with nothing resolved. The Rostov family is in crisis.

That winter, the count goes to Moscow with Natasha and Sonya: they must prepare for the wedding, and meet with Andrei on his return. The Countess, her nerves shattered, stays on at the country estate

Book 2, Part 5

In the first five quite brilliant chapters of this part, we catch up on some of the other characters before we return to the Rostovs. First, we see Pierre, who is sinking deeper into depression. Life suddenly feels him with "unexpected loathing". Freemasonry, which he had thought would give his life new meaning, has not done so, and even without wishing it, he finds himself sinking back into his old dissipations. He finds himself becoming the very kind of person he had so disliked. He tries to tell himself that he is not really like that, because he has deeper thoughts and higher aspirations; but then he wonders - what if others, too, have such thoughts and aspirations, but nonetheless continue to live such a meaningless existence, just as he is doing? The same old questions continue to torment Pierre, and he tries not to think about them.

"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."

Of course, no other author faced "that terrible it" with as much directness as Tolstoy.

The Bolkonskys, like Pierre, have moved into Moscow. The old prince, who seems to be in the early stages of senility, is crueler than ever to his daughter, hurting and humiliating her whenever he can. It has become a habit. He gives a dinner given for select guests; somehow, Boris has wangled an invitation. Having seen Count Rostopchin decline dinner with the commander-in-chief of Moscow to be present at Prince Bolkonsky's dinner, Boris realizes how important it is for him to be seen there; and sure enough, there he is. He is in the process of choosing between the two heiresses, Princess Maria and Julie Karagin.

After dinner, Pierre and Maria are together. Pierre is in surprisingly jovial spirits, and doesn't notice Maria's unhappiness until she - very uncharacteristically - bursts into sobs. Her father is making her life unbearable - all the more so given how much she actually loves him. His mind is in decline, and the tasteless joke he had made about marrying Madamoiselle Bourienne he is now carrying to quite ludicrous lengths, apparently just to hurt his daughter.

Meanwhile, Boris has settled for Julie. The chapter where he woos her is one of the funniest in the novel. She affects a fashionable melancholy, and he plays up to her. And finally, he tells her how much he cares for her.

There was no need to say more: Julie's face beamed with triumph and self-satisfaction; but she forced Boris to say all that is usually said on these occasions - to say that he loved her and had never loved any woman more. She knew that for her Penza estates and the Nizhni Novgorod forests she could demand that, and she received what was demanded.

Behind the almost bitter irony, there is also sadness. Boris is not an insensitive person. But whatever sensitivity of feeling he had, he has sacrificed. He had hesitated proposing to Julie because, we are told, he had a secret distaste for her, and had a "feeling of horror at thus renouncing the possibility of true love". We remember also that it was Natasha whom he had loved. But all that is now sacrificed.

Now we return to the Rostovs. Countess Rostov is still in the country, and the Rostovs' Moscow house has not been heated. So the Count, with Natasha and Sonya stay with Maria Dmitrievna, the lady whom we may remember from Natasha's name-day party near the start of the novel. She is a vigorous lady in her late 50s, who makes a show of her plainness of manners and lack of affectations. And Natasha is a great favourite of hers.

Maria Dmitrievna suggests that Natasha should pay a visit to her future in-laws, in an attempt to win over old Proince Bolkonsky. Count Rostov takes Natasha to the Bolkonskys' Moscow house, and, obviously frightened of meeting Prince Bolkonsky, makes an excuse and leaves his daughter with Maria. This is the first meeting between Natasha and Maria, and it mirrors the earlier meeting between their respective brothers, Nikolai and Andrei. As with the young men, the young ladies do not get on with each other. The old prince, on being told that Natasha had come, had angrily refused to meet with her. And Maria, emerging from yet another unpleasant scene with her father, is hardly in the right frame of mind to greet Natasha. Quite unconsciously, she had been hostile to Natasha - partly out of jealousy (Natasha is pretty and leads the kind of happy carefree life that Maria could only dream of), and partly also, I think, because of her Bolkonsky pride. And what she sees merely confirms what she had thought: a frivolous, fashionably dressed, pretty young girl.

Madamoiselle Bourienne prattles on the whole time, refusing to leave; and Maria, worried that her father might come in and create another scene, has nothing to say. Natasha senses Maria's hostility, and takes offence. Why should they not like her? Her - Natasha - whom everyone loves! What harm has she done to them? And in the middle of this scene, Maria's greatest fear comes true: her father, wearing a dressing gown and nightcap, makes his entrance. He plays the buffoon to Natasha, insisting that he had not known that she was there. (He is either lying here, or, more likely, he had forgotten: his mind is going, after all). He leaves soon, without having said anything meaningful to his future daughter-in-law, and certainly without having welcomed her. By the time Count Rostov comes to collect Natasha, she feels deeply humiliated; and Princess Maria's belated attempt at civility Natasha meets (to her own surprise!) with a cold rebuff. Back home, she is in tears.

Then, the Rostovs go to the opera. It is a glittering social occasion, and Tolstoy depicts it with withering contempt. The opera itself is a series of nonsensical and meaningless sounds and actions; the audience - Moscovite society - is affected, unnatural, stupid. The ladies are wearing low cut dresses - especially Helene, who is in the box next to that of the Rostovs. She dazzles everyone with her great beauty, and especially with her prominently displayed cleavage. Also in the audience are two handsome men who know they are being looked at and admired: Dolohov, and Helene's brother, Anatole. Anatole takes a fancy to Natasha: for someone as depraved and as unscrupulous as himself, a young, inexperienced girl like Natasha is a delightful change. His sister, Helene, finds it amusing to corrupt an innocent young girl. She invites Natasha into her box, and the well-practised seduction starts.

Especially after the unpleasant scene at the Bolkonskys, Natasha finds herself flattered by the attention. Back home after the opera, she wonders if she has done wrong. Has she betrayed Andrei in some way? And after a soiree at Helene's - where, once again, Anatole's seduction continues - Natasha finds herself in love with Anatole. Or so she thinks. She doesn't know what being "in love" means. What she feels for Anatole she suddenly imagines is overpowering. Possibly, the love she thought she had felt for Andrei had been equally insubstantial. At any rate, she now knows how to answer a conciliatory letter she receives from Maria: she writes to her breaking off the engagement with Andrei.

An elopement is arranged. Anatole - who is actually already married in secret - thinks it would be amusing to corrupt this girl, and Dolohov is to help him. They employ a troika-driver who normally serves them at such events, vicariously enjoying their depravity. But at Maria Dmitrievna's house, it doesn't take Dolohov long to work out that the plot has been discovered, and they escape.

It is Sonya who had given Natasha away. Having learnt of the elopement, she had stood guard in the corridor, determined to prove her gratitude to the Rostovs (which has been called into question lately) by defending their honour. Maria Dmirievna had found her there weeping, and had soon made her tell the truth.

The elopement has failed, and Natasha is inconsolable. Maria Dmitrievna is worried that Count Rostov - who had to return briefly to his country estate - would find out, and challenge Anatole to a duel. Or, perhaps, it might be Nikolai or Andrei who might try to fight a duel with Anatole. So she sends for Pierre, to ask him to get Anatole out of Moscow.

Pierre has known Natasha since she was a girl, but his affection for her has, recently, been turning into something more. For this very reason, he had been keeping his distance from his friend's betrothed. When Maria Dmitrievna tells him what had happened, he is outraged for his friend's sake. His immediate reaction is to think to himself that women are all like that - his wife, Natasha (whom he sees walking around calmly as if nothing had happened). It is only when he tells Natasha that Anatole is already married that he sees the agony she feels, and, as ever, he sympathizes. Afterwards, Natasha tries to poison herself, but panics, and does not take the full dose.

Pierre finds Anatole in his own house, at one of his wife's soirees. Helene sees in Pierre's face the sort of fury he had shown to her after his duel with Dolohov, and she doesn't dare oppose him as he frogmarches Anatole out. Pierre is in a fury, and when Anatole refuses at first to co-operate, he shakes him by the throat. Anatole has never seen Pierre like this, and frightened, hands Pierre the letters he had received from Natasha, and agrees to leave Moscow. It is presumably with profound sadness and self-loathing that Pierre tells Anatole to amuse himself with women like his wife, Helene, who know what to expect, rather than with innocent girls like Natasha.

Then, seeing Pierre has mastered his anger, Anatole asks Pierre to retract what he had said. Pierre does so, and leaves, expressing his utter disgust with the vile and heartless family he has married into.

Andrei has now returned, and Pierre visits him. Andrei is talking loudly and excitedly about politics: anything rather than talk about what has wounded him more deeply than anything had done at the Battle of Austerlitz. His father is notably pleased that his son's engagement has been broken. Even Maria cannot quite hide her relief at this. But when Pierre speaks to Andrei privately, the emotional wound is all too apparent. Andrei has staked his entire happiness on Natasha, and now that dream, too, has collapsed. When he says he is sorry to hear of Natasha's illness, he smiles a cold, spiteful smile like his father's. And when he hears that Anatole is already married, he laughs unpleasantly - again like his father.

He asks where Anatole is: obviously, he means to find him out and kill him. Pierre hints at Andrei forgiving Natasha, but that is out of the question. Andrei says there is nothing to forgive: he had given her perfect freedom. But Andrei in his heart cannot forgive her for having preferred a worthless nobody like Anatole Kuragin to him, Andrei Bolkonsky. He asks Pierre not to talk of the matter again.

Finally, Pierre visits Natasha again. She has recovered from her attempted suicide, but mentally, she is wretched. And Pierre, gentle-hearted as always, feels for her. And suddenly, quite unexpectedly, it comes out. Partly to comfort her, and partly because he really does mean it, he tells her that if he were not himself, but were instead the most handsome and brilliant of men, and if he were free, he would go down upon his knees right away and propose to her.

Riding back from the Rostovs' house, Pierre suddenly feels a sense of exhilaration. He unbuttons his coat, despite the bitter cold. Above the dirty Moscow streets is a magnificent night sky, with a comet. This comet was seen at the time as prefiguring disaster, but to Pierre it seems otherwise.

It seemed to Pierre that this comet spoke in full harmony with all that filled his own softened and uplifted soul, now blossoming into a new life.

And on that exhilarating note, we come to the end of this first half of this extraordinary novel. And no matter how often I read that marvellous passage, I too, like Pierre, feel joyous and exhilarated. I really know of nothing more glorious in all literature.

Himadri Chatterjee currently works as an operational research analyst for an airline, and lives near London, UK, with his wife and two children. What spare time he has apart from his day job and family commitments, he likes to spend reading, and listening to classical music. He also loves the theatre, good conversation, and good whisky (he is a long-standing member of the Scotch Malt Whisky Society).
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