Big Book 2019

Mumming is a European folk tradition that seems to have originated in Great Britain and other Northern European countries sometime in the 1700s. It generally consists of “hero combat” between a champion and an enemy (often Turkish). After the battle, the defeated, now dead, opponent is raised by a doctor. The characters all give short comic speeches, which constitutes the core of the tradition (Hardin). Tolstoy uses mumming both to show a Russian Christmas-time tradition, as well as the breaking down of class barriers and personal inhibitions when dressed up as a different person.

At the beginning of the festivities, it’s noted that “the servants dressed up as bears, Turks, innkeepers, ladies frightening and funny, brought cold air and merriment in with them, first huddling timidly in the front hall; then hiding behind each other, they crowded into the reception room” (523). Indeed, while the servants started the festivities, all of the Rostov children also join in a half and hour later. With the coming together of servants and the aristocrats, we see a joint front for fun, and in the blurring of traditional power dynamics, you have a sense of unity and joyfulness that we haven’t previously seen.

Along with the inversion of class, we see an inversion of gender dynamics explicitly with the cross-dressing, and more subtly in the shift in Sonya’s behavior and beauty. Tolstoy’s perception of beauty seems to be that the happier you are, the more beautiful you seem, as seen with Natasha’s happiness making her seem beautiful, or vice versa with Marya’s misery during her introduction with Anatole. Sonya, when crossdressing, has “the best [outfit] of all. Her mustache and eyebrows were remarkably becoming. Everyone told her that she was very beautiful, and she was in an animatedly energetic mood unusual for her” (523). While her inner energetic nature is clearly shining through, it’s also noted that “in a man’s clothing she seemed an entirely different person” (523). Previously, she has been painted as a more timid counterpart to Natasha’s radiance, but here we see her really come alive and take the spotlight. With her shining beauty, she also loses her previous inhibitions, and is “not afraid of anything’” (528). Although she thinks that Christmas is the night when her fate was going to be ultimately decided, which I would think would weigh on a person, she is not afraid. Her lack of fear and inner-turned-outer beauty all spur Nikolai to act on his romantic feelings, since he is able to see Sonya in this new light. Under her Circassian guise, Sonya is free to act as she wants to, which, I think, is a more male trait in War and Peace. Sonya is often depicted as the patient maiden waiting to be proposed to, but, when the necessity of femininity is lifted, she is finally free to be herself.

Source: Hardin, Richard F. “Playhouse Calls: Folk Play Doctors on the Elizabethan Stage.” Early Theatre, vol. 5, no. 1, 2002, pp. 59–76. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43499154.

Tolstoy peppers “War and Peace” with visions of soirees, often which hone in on the beauty of the young women in attendance. But rather than analyzing their physical exterior, Tolstoy examines their emotions and mental state to define their beauty. Beauty is also impermanent: based on the instantaneous emotional experience of the woman, her beauty may be amplified or it may diminish.

Marya is an excellent example of the minimal effect (if any) physical changes play in beauty. Just prior to the ball where Marya meets Anatole, a flurry of women doll her up in various dresses, fabrics, and hairdos. Even despite the various styles that Marya tries on, “she was rather more bad- than good-looking now” (217).  While the women pampered and modified her appearance in nearly every way possible, Tolstoy describes that “they forgot that the frightened face and figure could not be changed, and therefore, no matter how they changed the frame and decoration of that face, the face itself remained pitiful and unattractive” (219). Here, Tolstoy acknowledges that the tactic similar to “putting lipstick on a pig” is ineffective at masking ugliness and painting on beauty.

In contrast, Natasha’s free spirit and genuine, raw personality seem to be the fundamental contributions to her beauty. Vastly different from Marya’s party experience, at the New Year’s Eve ball, Natasha’s beauty shines through her excitement and joy. As soon as Natasha steps into the ball, “she [feels] her eyes looking everywhere at once: she saw nothing clearly, her pulse beat a hundred times a minute, and the blood began to throb in her heart. She was…faint with excitement and only trying as hard as she could to conceal it. And this was the manner that was most becoming to her” (456). The changes in Natasha’s character that render her in her most beautiful state are those that are the result of childish elation. The eagerness she involuntarily expresses, through her rapid heart rate and dizzying excitement, although she tries to hide it, are actually the factors that make her radiate beauty.

Additionally, beyond the role the mind plays in Tolstoy and the viewer’s perception of the body, there is something about authenticity and purity that strikes Tolstoy as beautiful. He describes that “[Natasha’s] shoulders were thin, her bosom undefined, her arms slender; but on Helene there was already a sort of varnish from all the thousands of gazes that had passed over her body, while Natasha looked like a young girl who was bared for the first time” (460). While Natasha’s measurements do not necessarily align with the standards for beauty at the time, Tolstoy seems to praise the fact that her beauty is untouched. He describes Helene as a worn out toy, a doll that is past its prime and was once beautiful but now emits a feeling of artificiality; she lacks the natural beauty that Natasha now glows with. Not only does Tolstoy acknowledge this as the narrator, but he uses Prince Andrei as a pawn to emphasize this point. Andrei claims to like to “encounter things in society that did not have the general society stamp on them. And Natasha was just that, with her astonishment, joy, and timidity, and even her mistakes in French” (461). Tolstoy explicitly states that a primary part of what makes Natasha attractive to Andrei is her removal from general society. Andrei seeks something new and vibrant, separated from the stuffy fabricated lives of the elite, and precisely her distance from that is appealing. Andrei even finds her mistakes attractive, as they seem to add to her imperfection and authenticity that he is so drawn to. Spirit plays a critical role in establishing beauty. Whereas Marya is plain and reserved, hence ugly regardless of attempts to beautify her, Natasha’s exuberance makes her effortlessly beautiful. Why does Tolstoy bother commenting on the beauty of these young women? Perhaps he is saying something more about his thoughts on Russian society– that rigid and carefully calculated actions are inferior to genuine and unrestrained measures?

“Natasha fell in love from the moment she entered the ballroom. She was not in love with anyone in particular, but with everyone. She fell in love with whomever she looked at, the moment she looked at him.” (334)

Natasha has one of the most interestingly dynamic personalities in the book. As one of the youngest main characters, Tolstoy does a wonderful job of portraying the perspective and characters of a naïve, young, and unstable teenager. Without nearly the same amount of life experience as many other characters in the book, Natasha is quick to act and quick to judge. This scene captures the type of person she is: a kid in a candy store. She’s excited and almost overwhelmed by everything she sees. Since she isn’t used to this environment, she becomes enamored with everything she sees.

As a reader, her character can become frustrating but also nostalgic. She serves as a reminder of what life used to be like: carefree. It makes me think of the days when nothing really mattered, when my curiosity carried me away, intriguing me in almost everything I see. It is a reminder of the days when you were drawn into virtually everything in the world, as it was practically the first time you had ever interacted with them. After all, her open-mindedness is a good thing. Although it is somewhat immature, being actively excited and curious is a beneficial trait to hold on to. If we balancedly maintain that notion of acceptance, we will be able to find joy and passions for things we had never considered. For example, with a stiff and firmly tunnel-visioned attitude, how will we explore and have new firsts?

As reminiscent as Natasha’s character is, she’s equally frustrating. It is understandable that she would act this way towards the beginning of the book, as she is still in her very early teenage years. However, it becomes almost annoying when she is sixteen and still unchanged in her behavior. When she fell in love with Anatole after a mere day, it was almost the exact same thing that happened in this quote. Yet, these two scenes are four years apart. Natasha had a great plan with Andrei set-up. She was happy as she ever was. As the reader, seeing Natasha ruin what she had with such brash decision-making and immature actions was frustrating. It’s like watching a horror film and seeing the main characters continuously make terrible decisions.

Despite how angered I was at Natasha, I still find her character incredibly fascinating. Seeing the positives and negatives of her character illustrates the complex nature of her outlook on life.

Here we go, folks — into our semester of wrangling with Tolstoy, and with this monstrous volume of his.  Here our conversation really begins; and here, to some extent, begins your personal dialogue with the text (also with the rest of us, but these entries will first and foremost be your own explorations of the aspects of the book that are speaking most directly to you).

We all read differently, and part of what makes the experience of reading a book together is to engage with the ways others are reading — what another reader sees in a similar scene, or what passages speak particularly to certain people.  And this book, vast and wide-reaching, will call out to each of you in intriguing ways.  What is this book?  What’s resonating here?  There will be plenty — and much of what will enrich our reading experience (and shine a light on how complex a book it is) is to hear the many ways in which the book speaks to its readers.

So… what have we got so far?  (Some of you more than others, to this point….)  While getting into the novel involves diving into a sea of history and a swamp of Russian names, and untangling a skein of family relationships, ideally by now you’ve at least settled in to the pace of the book and the style of Tolstoy’s narrative.  Here’s a quote from the writer Liesl Schillinger, writing on the New York Times’ Reading Room blog a few years ago (when five readers read and wrote about War and Peace — some good thoughts there, well worth checking out):

“To me, these characters are timeless, even if the circumstances that temper them are rooted in a specific era. When I spy on Andrei’s soul-searching, I feel that I could be in the presence of a man I might know today, who searches for meaning in his life, and yearns for self-reinvention, but is too proud to admit that he doesn’t quite know what his “self” is…. Pierre’s quest for self-respect after the duel leads him to the Masons… His initiation into the Masonic mysteries reminds me of flirtations various friends of mine have had with assorted groups — the Forum, E.S.T., A.A., Scientology, Tony-Robbins-style life coaching, even conventional religion — during identity crises in their 20s and 30s. Those organizations served the same role for them as the Masons did for Pierre, 200 years ago: giving them a new framework for self-belief. Man’s struggle to find a logic to life and fate has no century…. It’s no easier to become a happy adult now than it was then; and it’s just as impossible to do it alone.”

As you read on, I trust that you too will find the characters as contemporary as Schillinger does.  Despite the use of bayonets, troops limited to foot and horseback, fancy costume balls, and scores of other nineteenth century realities, the book has countless contemporary resonances (not least of which is the powerful country whose army is at war — for somewhat difficult to explain reasons — on foreign soil).

So:  your turn now.  Offer up some introductory thoughts.  And while we’re looking, here on our blog, for coherent writing, you needn’t feel pressure to offer highly polished, refined posts.  Feel free to read post from the past class blogs to get a feel of the basic idea — but when you read, though, start at the beginning — the oldest pages — to avoid too many spoilers….  I’ve also posted 5 blog entries from various classes in the past to give you a sense of what your target is.

Past classes have asked me how to start, what to write about; I always say you should write about whatever grabs you.  Make connections to ideas and/or events around you today, or other things you’ve read or seen.  Or, if you’re at a loss, pick a character and write about him or her — better yet, and easier to start with may be to pick a scene that resonated with you, and explore why it did.

Honestly, anything you respond to, for now, is what we want to hear about.  Certainly we’re interested in investigating what Tolstoy seems to have been after, and what of that resonates with us today; but a good deal of what Tolstoy was after was life, no simple aim in any art form, and no simple topic — so we’re going to have to respond and react piece by piece.

There are a million places to start — don’t worry too hard about picking the ‘right’ spot; just pick one that interests you, and dive in.