07 January 2011

A French (Dis)Connection ...or... "Aaa-AAH, the French...!"

"You talk of Bonaparte; but Bonaparte, when he was working, went step by step towards his goal, he was free, he had nothing except his goal - and he reached it. But bind yourself to a woman - and, like a prisoner in irons, you lose all freedom."
- Prince Andrei Bolkonsky (I.1.vi)

Day Count: 7
Page Count: 104

One of the things that has been most challenging about the translation of War and Peace that I've chosen (the Richard Pevear/Larissa Volokhonsky translation) is that the translators have chosen to leave the large portions of French dialogue intact. Having taken Spanish in both middle and high school, I can honestly say that the only French I know (much like the German and Russian phrases that I know) come from plays that I have done or seen, books I have read, or films that I've watched. This means that the limitations placed on my ability to understand the language are myriad.

Tolstoy wrote War and Peace in both Russian and French, which a lot of translations apparently do not allude to. I can see the reasons behind translating the French into English - after all, so few Americans do speak French fluently - but he did write the French there for a reason.

My department head - the one who got me started on the idea of reading War and Peace - says that, in Russia around 1805, Russia was obsessed by French culture, to the point of conversing heavily in the French language. It was evidently not a rare thing to hear a Russian - particularly those of the higher class - making use of French phrases or corresponding entirely in French (as Julie Karagin and Marya Bolkonsky do in I.1.xxii).

I find this obsession with the French odd and ironic, especially considering that much of the dialogue in the book thus far - at least the dialogue spoken at 'social events' like dinners, parties, soirees, and the like - is almost entirely regarding Russia's dislike of France's emperor, Napoleon Bonaparte, whose military victories over the neighbors of Russia had gained much attention. Indeed, many of these social figures are cursing Napoleon and his oncoming armies in one breath* and speaking to one another in the man's native tongue the next. The whole thing seems very inconsistent and incredibly ironic to me.

So, I asked my department head: "Is this irony merely something that Tolstoy includes as a way of maintaining historical accuracy or he attempting to bring the reader's mind to the irony inherent within this viewpoint?"

My department called his wife (who is the one who got him interested in reading War and Peace in the first place) who had taken a class on the book and asked her. She likened Russia's obsession with France to many parts of the world being so influenced by American culture. While America is certainly not the most 'well-liked' country in the world right now, aspects and elements of our culture are very influential worldwide. In the same way, France was one of the world's superpowers and, while the Russians did not like their 'foreign policy,' it seems likely that they were still strongly influenced by their culture.

My department head went on to say that, while he doesn't necessarily believe that the irony was intentional on Tolstoy's part (but simply a way of being true to that place and time), he doesn't feel it should be ignored either.

It feels good to have picked up on something like that, even if it wasn't the author's intent. I feel I'm being diligent and perceptive when that kind of thing goes down!

In a way of closing, I'd like to give a shout-out to another new-comer to the literary blogging community. He is one of my colleagues - an English lit teacher at the school where I work - and, in preparation for teaching it next semester, he has started blogging his reading and studies through James Joyce's immortal Ulysses. I applaud his efforts - Ulysses is by no means an easy book to read (maybe I'll get around to it someday) and, I'm sure, even harder to teach.

While we both have similar ideas - blogging our way through a piece of classic literature - I find that the two of us are taking vastly different approaches, which is appropriate given that we are very different people. While my blog is about a quintessential Russian novel and is more loosely focused on my experiences with the book, his blog teems with scholarly insights and teaching strategies on a quintessential Irish novel. He has started roughly around the same time I have and will very likely finish much sooner, but if you enjoy this blog and what it attempts to do, I would recommend checking out Unraveling Ulysses... and tell him Foxy sent you!

*EDIT NOTE (1/8/2010) - This is not to say that all of Tolstoy's socialites are anti-Napoleon. In fact, Pierre Bezukhov (the character many scholars say is closest to Tolstoy himself) is, at this point, an unapologetic Bonapartist, which creates problems for him at Anna Pavlovna's soiree. In fact, many young intellectuals would have been sympathetic to the French and Napoleon despite the coming war.


05 January 2011

Hitting the Wall... For the First Time

"In the best, the friendliest and simplest relations, flattery or praise is necessary, just as grease is necessary to keep wheels turning."
- Leo Tolstoy (I.1.vi)

Day Count: 5
Page Count: 70

The last couple of days don't feel like they've been quite as productive as the first couple. And, while the numbers seem to disagree with that statement, I feel like a general feeling of blase has hit with regard to the overwhelming excitement to read that consumed me on those first couple of days. Indeed, reading yesterday and day has seemed somewhat laborious in comparison with those first couple of can't-put-it-down days.

In my experience with reading through books, this is called "The Wall" - the point at which you hit your first barrier to completion. Climbing these walls (or digging under them or tunneling through them - pick your analogy of choice) is an essential part of marathon reading. Unfortunately, I tend to fall apart at The Wall.

Over the last several years, I have picked up a number of books and put them down after hitting The Wall. A few of those I've managed to pick up again, but if I hit The Wall too early, the temptation is pretty overwhelming to set the book down and go about my day sans literature. Some great books have been set aside for this reason: The Brothers Karamazov. Love in the Time of Cholera. Crime and Punishment. The Complete Short Stories of Nikolai Gogol. Lolita. (As you can see, I have an issue finishing Russian novels...) The list is endless...

However, I have managed to overcome The Wall before... even on some pretty hefty books. Usually, overcoming The Wall happens if I've gotten far enough along in a book that, even if I have ceased to be interested, I'm still committed to see it through 'til the end. Other times, I'm bored with the action, but am dedicated to certain characters or storylines enough to see them through. Examples of this include East of Eden, The Magnificent Ambersons, To Kill a Mockingbird, and This is Orson Welles.

At this point, I'm still very early on in the reading process. In a book with over 1200 pages, seventy down is hardly a dent... however, I feel I have something this time that I've not had in the past: accountability. Already, I've been encouraged by those who have read the book before me, letting me know that I need to commit early to taking time to read everyday - even if it's only a few pages. Also, this blog is a great source of accountability. Knowing that I am accountable to my readership (which has expanded to two - HOLLA!) is a big source of motivation for me to continue reading.

With your help, gentle readers, I shall overcome The Wall at every turn. Support your local literature buff, people!

02 January 2011

Meeting the Principal Players

"Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the company of intelligent women."
- Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, War and Peace (I.1.iii)

Day Count: 2
Page Count: 20

I'm twenty pages in at the start of the second day, which is well above the rate I need to be reading at to make it through War and Peace in a year! Establishing a good pace early is important, I think, as it will help establish a good momentum for the remainder of my reading. The book itself is 1215 pages (not including Tolstoy's "A Few Words Apropos of the Book War and Peace" which Pevear and Volokhonsky include in this volume as an appendix. (I'll very likely be reading that as well.) That means about three to three and a half pages a day to finish by December 31, 2011... so it looks like I'm making some good progress so far.

Secondly, a note with regard to format: I like the idea of starting every entry with a quote or two from the text that stands out to me - whether for its literary, artistic, or philosophical merit, I will leave for you, gentle reader, to decide. The quote may have something to do with what the given entry will be about; then again, it may not. The quotes will be followed by the volume number (capital Roman numeral), part number (Western numeral: 1, 2, 3, etc.), and chapter number (lower case Roman numeral), all separated by periods. This way, if you'd like to attempt to find the quote yourself (for those of you following along at home), you may do so.

I also would like to keep the readership (all one of you from the looks of my 'Followers' sidebar - "Hi, Kyle!") abreast of my progress. As such, I will be keeping a running tally of both how many days I've been reading and how many pages I've read in those days. This is more for my accountability than anything else.

With regard to the narrative: very little in the way of plot propulsion has happened so far, but I suppose I can forgive Tolstoy that 'indiscretion.' As he has 1200+ pages to begin the story, I can hardly fault him for not jumping directly into the action. In fact, I rather like it - it seems very much as though he is building a foundation of context and character, setting the stage for the bulk of the work that is to come. I remain patient at the outset, preparing myself for what I'm certain are greater things still to come.

The book opens on a conversation in preparation for a society party (a soiree, as Tolstoy says). Prince Vassily and Anna Pavlvona (the hostess) are discussing politics, which, indeed, most of the guests at this party seem to be obsessed with. Granted, the looming figure of Napoleon on the march through Europe is enough of a happening to spark many to heated discussion.

The hostess, Anna Pavlovna Scherer, is a pillar of society (by which Tolstoy seems to mean high society) and very much in command of the various guests and their conversations. All the while, she is the air of Russian social mores and pleasantries circa 1805. She is the hub around which a wheel of activity spins, pulling the other players of this tale into its wake.

I have thus far met only a handful of the rest of those whom I will call "The Principal Players".
  • Pierre Bezukhov - The fat, bespectacled, illegitimate son of a Count. He has little knowledge of 'society life,' having been raised and educated "abroad." He is brusque and outspoken, more than happy to interject his own thoughts into any passing conversation both loudly and without regard for how others might receive them, much to the chagrin of Anna Pavlovna. He appears to be friends with Prince Andrei.
  • Prince Andrei Bolkonsky - An attractive man of average height and build (also, apparently a prince). He is apparently bored with the entirety of the 'society life' in which he has been raised, almost to the point of contempt. I've seen very little of him, but he does not appear to think much of his wife, but does seem to think a great deal of Pierre, Anna Pavlovna, and Helene Kuragin.
  • Liza Bolkonsky a.k.a. "the little princess" - Prince Andrei's pregnant wife. In terms of substance of character, there doesn't seem to be all that much to her, really. Much is said by Tolstoy about her beauty and she seems to know how to play the game of society and gets swept up in it rather easily. While her husband is bored with it all, she comes to life... but, oddly, seems content with her 'handwork' (I would assume some form of needlepoint?), which I'm guessing is due to her pregnancy. The phrase "silly little nit" comes to mind when I think of her. I wonder if there's more to her than meets the eye.
I've met a few other characters (Vassily, Helene, Ippolit, and the Viscount of Mortemart), but I prefer to wait until I've read a little more about them before I begin to profile them. I am interested in seeing the groundwork being laid. I do enjoy the party as a means of introducing the Principal Players, as it seems a very natural device for such exposition. You get it all in just the opening scene - all the Players, their interactions with one another, their thoughts on the issues of the day (which, at this point, seems to include only Napoleon), etc. Great beginning!