Book Review: Anna Karenina is not as intimidating as we're led to believe. Much like root canals. Tolstoy writes clearly and efficiently, even repeating himself sufficiently to ensure the reader keeps up. The story is so well known that spoilers are part of our common heritage, but with Tolstoy that's irrelevant. Even knowing the ending, Anna Karenina is a journey worth taking. At heart, the story is about two people: Levin, a man who finds himself, and Anna, a woman who loses her way. Both are part of the wealthy, cultured class, the aristocracy, in which everyone seems to speak at least three languages. He is awkward, clumsy, a misfit. She is intelligent, charming, beautiful. She is of the city, distant from the peasants. He is a landowner, a farmer, of the land and works alongside the recently emancipated serfs. She aspires to be cultured and European, he rejects the influence of the West and desires to be closer to his Russian nature. He's in a practically perfect marriage, although insecure and overly jealous. She's in an unhappy marriage, which she forsakes for a dangerous romance, also tormented by insecurity and jealousy. Her insecurity stems from her precarious position as a scarlet woman, little of which taints her lover. She has no right to her child and is ostracized by her peers. I actually didn't get a full picture of her as a person till near the end of the book when we see her through Levin's eyes, which is the only time they meet. She has so much hunger for life, she wants so much, is capable of such rich feeling that it's especially cruel to see her circumscribed and punished. Both protagonists suffer an existential crisis at the end of the book, which neither of their lovers are capable of comprehending.
Two great strengths of the novel, layers of genius, brilliancies, are how Tolstoy gives such a complex, accurate evocation of the interior of every character, which then enriches a series of wrenching, all-too-human vignettes. He spends much of his writing from inside everyone's head, telling us what they're thinking and why they're thinking it. Motivation is carefully examined, people change their minds, and simply change. Even the dog Laska has a rich inner life. Tolstoy has a surprisingly strong sensitivity and support for women. Amazing. Many of the emotionally powerful moments are obviously drawn from Tolstoy's own life, such as his illustration of Levin's wedding, the birth of his child, the death of his brother. Even in his lengthy descriptions of farming, Tolstoy's writing exults in the joys of physical labor. There are many brilliant accounts of individual moments: Kitty's care of Levin's dying brother, Anna's love for her son, Karenin's transformations, Anna's disordered thoughts. This is Tolstoy's genius.
Although not suspenseful or compelling, the short chapters and many varied characters easily encourage continued reading. The book is just long (like a Russian winter), with enervating stretches that beg to be shortened for the modern reader. The sections about Levin are a bit less interesting, diluting the greater drama of Anna's life. Much of Levin is written from Tolstoy's own point of view, with the author eager to share his opinions on farming, politics, relationships, and more. He is loyal to the old world: good guys are of the land, bad guys are the effete, cosmopolitan, urban elites. In fact, much of the book promotes Tolstoy's philosophy, especially a theme of distancing Russia from European culture. Long tracts on farming, tangents on hunting, much mocking of politics. There are also involved descriptions of religion, especially during Levin's existential crisis.
Some of these moments are brilliant and enlightening, but in the end (for me) Anna Karenina is too long, unnecessarily long. To have tightened the book, to bring the wonderful scenes closer together, would've brought this book to all the people, instead of only those rarefied Westerners willing to climb the mountain. I know many people believe Anna Karenina is magnificent as written, but whether because of cultural differences, differences in how we read now, or just my own impatience and limitations, for me the length weakens the power and emotional impact.
A few random thoughts: my gosh do Russians really blush this much? It seemed the characters couldn't get through a conversation without a good, healthy flushing and blushing. And how are there so many princes and princesses? Also, although we think of Tolstoy was one of the great writers of eternity, timeless on his pinnacle, writing this all time classic, Anna Karenina is actually very much of its time and place, citing countless contemporary events, books, people, stores, and streets. It's not just a 19th Century novel, it's a novel of 1878. Finally, what a great first line -- when did we stop having great first lines?
I had access to three translations (Garnette, Maude, Pevear/Volokhonsky); all had positives and negatives (my Garnette edition wasn't edited, which some seem to think is the best). While reading I came across sentences that made me question the translation, when I'd think, "That's not how we say it English," or "That doesn't seem quite right." Then I'd consult all three versions. What sounded the best, seemed correct, appeared to be most accurate, varied among the three translations. I mostly read the P&V, but none stood out. If I could take parts of all three to make a clear, appropriate translation. One that read smoothly and like a book that had been written in English, instead of sounding translated. For instance, "You've done good deeds while with us," versus, "You've done good actions while with us."
Perhaps I'm a barbarian. Better readers will get more from the book than I did. For me it seemed long, and a book shouldn't seem long no matter how many pages it has (just as Austen's Emma is long). I'm not proud of it, but I don't think Anna Karenina is as necessary as I did before reading it. Certainly there was something to learn, certainly I'm glad I read it, certainly I'll still read War and Peace. In hindsight, I could've lived without reading it. Perhaps my time could've been spent on Middlemarch or Infinite Jest. I can recognize the genius that went into this masterpiece, but I also know I missed something, and remember the moments my attention wandered. At 350 pages, this would've been the book I expected. [4★]
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