Cleansing of the soul

Making good progress on resurrection. Landed on page 165 this morning. I’ll pull out some passages that catch my attention either though the content it focuses upon…the general style Tolstoy uses in a passage… or the general feeling that arises after I read it.

The following is from chapter XXVIII – The Awakening

More than once in Nekhlyudov's life there had been what he called a "cleansing of the soul." By "cleansing of the soul" he meant a state of mind in which, after a long period of sluggish inner life, a total cessation of its activity, he began to clear out all the rubbish that had accumulated in his soul, and was the cause of the cessation of the true life. His soul needed cleansing as a watch does. After such an awakening Nekhlyudov always made some rules for himself which he meant to follow forever after, wrote his diary, and began afresh a life which he hoped never to change again. "Turning over a new leaf," he called it to himself in English. But each time the temptations of the world entrapped him, and without noticing it he fell again, often lower than before.

…

… "Have you not tried before to perfect yourself and become better, and nothing has come of it?" whispered the voice of the tempter within. "What is the use of trying any more? Are you the only one? - All are alike, such is life," whispered the voice. But the free spiritual being, which alone is true, alone powerful, alone eternal, had already awakened in Nekhlyudov, and he could not but believe it.

…

He prayed, asking God to help him, to enter into him and cleanse him; and what he was praying for had happened already: the God within him had awakened his consciousness. He felt himself one with Him, and therefore felt not only the freedom, fullness and joy of life, but all the power of righteousness. All, all the best that a man could do he felt capable of doing.

His eyes filled with tears as he was saying all this to himself, good and bad tears: good because they were tears of joy at the awakening of the spiritual being within him, the being which had been asleep all these years; and bad tears because they were tears of tenderness to himself at his own goodness.

I don’t think there has been an extended period of time where I have looked at myself and wished and sought help at cleansing the evil/negative/bad/wicked parts out of me. I feel that I am very critical of my psychological being. I question my decision making; I question my own self control and discipline.

How do I go about cleansing myself?

Honestly, I feel that I am seeking, and have been seeking an answer to that question for years…yes- years. I’d also like to think that some of the process of doing these readings and wrings will allow me to work on correcting what I’d like to call “character flaws”.

Do I pray?

That’s a tough one as I struggle to recognize and understand my own feelings about a “being” to “pray to”.

Am I praying to the god within me – or am I praying to the “God” that is floating up in the clouds?

Who or what am I seeking assistance from. Am I attempting to rally my own forces within me to fight against that which I am battling against – or am I seeking some sort of external assistance? Does that external existence even exist?

The real question then becomes, is this questioning of an existence a good thing or a harmful thing?

I do not see the harm in questioning the existence or lack of existence of a “being”.

What I am sure of though is that I exist and I have a voice within me that I listen to.

I think that this questioning of existence and the realization of the “being” within me is one of the reasons why I have finally been able to tackle this novel. I don’t think that Tolstoy’s writing would have held me in the past as it is doing now.

Today’s WTFED is rather fitting.

“Atheism indicates that a person has some intellect but only to a certain limited extent. Both the truly wise and the completely stupid are not atheists.”

Well now…something to dwell on.

Settling in for the long read

So I’m 94 pages into this book…total 483.

I better get to reading if I’m going to wrap this up before the little guy arrives!

Reading at night is tough. I’m usually pretty tired by the time dinner is over and after M and I have returned from our evening walk. It’s tough to settle down in my nice comfortable (reclining) chair, pick up a book and read.

It’s so much easier to just lay back, put on a mindless TV program and drift off.

But, surprisingly, I’ve found “Resurrection” holding my attention. I was worried when I first started reading this book (and given my past history with it) that it would be hard to mentally hold this book because I really haven’t read literature in translation from this period in quite some time. My reading of short stories from the late 70s and the early 80s has really set my head in a certain frame of reading. – Does that make any sense?

In preparation and during the reading of Resurrection and for future Tolstoy novels, I have been reading opinions on the book and on his writing. I ran across this thread on a literature discussion board.

The question was asked – “Why do we study literature?” The question sounds like a student attempting to get some good answers to use as their own for the next day’s class…but I found the answers – especially the first (and the author cited was quite fitting) one to be a wonderful reason for the existence of this journal.

“I think it was Leo Tolstoy who argued that all of literature, quality literature, revolves around two central issues: Who are we and how shall we live? These two questions strike at the heart of literature and provide answers to why we study literature. If we take Tolstoy's paradigm and study it, we understand why a study of literature is vital to our understanding of ourselves and our world. All literature does, to a large extent, address both questions in different ways. The answers derived help us understand our identities and purposes in this life. The manner in which these questions are answered may vary from text to text, yet the underlying premise behind why we study literature comes back to Tolstoy's predicament: We seek answers to who we are and how we shall live.”

Tolstoy and his morals – I’ll be sure to include some of what John Gardner and DFW had to say about him and those in a later entry.

Here is a lovely passage – one that someday I may be able to explain to you. It’s a passage that touched my heart and took me back…

“In the love between a man and a woman there always comes a moment when this love has reached its zenith—a moment when it is unconscious, unreasoning, and with nothing sensual about it. Such a moment had come for Nekhlyudov on that Easter eve. When he brought Katusha back to his mind, now, this moment veiled all else; the smooth glossy black head, the white tucked dress closely fitting her graceful maidenly form, her, as yet, un-developed bosom, the blushing cheeks, the tender shining black eyes with their slight squint heightened by the sleepless night, and her whole being stamped with those two marked features, purity and chaste love, love not only for him (he knew that), but for everybody and everything, not for the good alone, but for all that is in the world, even for that beggar whom she had kissed.”

Katusha at the Easter service

I am quite fascinated with the character of Katusha. I think that because of my time in Romania… and honestly my fascination with the peasants, I can picture Katusha quite clearly.

Now, Katusha is not a peasant, she is more of a “house maid”…but I cannot seem to disassociate my mental picture of her as more of a peasant.

Again, I think that this is another wonderful aspect of literature – the author goes to great lengths to develop the character - their physical being as well as their personality and soul. It is the reader that may unconsciously assign smaller characteristics to the players in the novel as they read simply because of their own background and the filter that the story passes through in their mind colors the story in a shade that is the most pleasant to them.

Most of the action in the story since my last post has taken place in the courtroom. There was the “flashback” to the whole affair between Katusha and Nekhlyudov but it’s really hard for me to decide which was more compelling.

Katusha in court

Finally, here is another WTFED.

“There is only one type of treasure that does not get smaller when you give it to others. You can give away as much as you want, and it only grows bigger. It is the treasure of wisdom.”

What we carry on our back

I carry a backpack to work. It’s a nice large LL Bean backpack with two large cargo pockets, two small front pockets and a large cargo pocket on the bottom.

I carry my lunch in the largest of the pockets. In the second largest pocket, I carry all of my books. I rotate several magazines and papers in and out of that pocket depending on my reading choices for that week. Mixed in with the papers, are three books that remain in that pocket.

The first is the latest edition of the “Best American Short Stories” anthology that I am reading for my other journal.

The second is a physical journal. A little black notebook…you know the brand.

The third is the book pictured below.

A feature of this journal will be irregular postings of some of the thoughts by Tolstoy that I come across in this little book.

In other Russian reading news, I am a good 40 pages in “Resurrection” by Tolstoy.

Why did I choose this book as the first to read and report on in this journal?

I have a tough time knowing why. I think it will be one of those decisions that exposes itself through time.

I just finished a book (ARC) “Travels in Siberia” by Ian Frazier (I may review the book for the paper).

This book was a major part of me getting back into my “Russian” phase of reading, and it turn, I suppose a major part of the creation of this journal.

This photo – by Repin has captivated me since I purchased this novel.

As far as I can remember, the book was purchased just after me leaving Norwich. I think I was intending to purchase as many of Tolstoy’s novels as I could. I am pretty sure that I purchased my first copy of “War and Peace” right around the same time…I’d say it was 1994. There were several major book purchases during this turbulent period of my life. And I sought comfort in the Russians.

That would be 16 years ago. So, 16 years after the purchase…I am finally reading it.

I’ll have plenty to say about this book over the next few weeks, and my goal is to have this book completed by the time you are born.

So, let’s end today’s writing with a few words from ‘Wise Thoughts for Everyday” – or WTFED.

Aug 23^rd –

‘The majority of our actions are guided by the force of other people’s opinions and teachings.”

True – but it’s important to take those opinions and teachings with a certain amount of your own judgment.

An Introduction

My mind is a tricky thing…I don’t think that the idea of this journal has escaped my mind for more than a couple of hours at a time over the last few days. The purpose, the reason, the design…and what I hope to get out of it.

Hold on -

I would like to modify that last sentence a bit and change the ending to…what I hope my son will get out of it.

Let’s provide a little background here so that the reader will have the chance to understand a bit more about me and what I hope to accomplish here.

I think it was back in the 8^th or 9^th grade when I became fascinated with all things Russian. The country, the people, the politics (Soviet style Communism), the food.

Can’t really give you a reason why. It’s one of those strange infatuations that settle in on people that can never really be explained.

Through high school, I worked at discovering as much as I could about the country,. This was all before the internet and during the cold war so it was a little difficult and a lot of what I was finding was colored with a political brush.

High school years passed and I made my way into college (a military one) and started studying the Russian language. My university had a summer Russian School and an impressive holding of Russian titles and periodicals. I would find every free moment to place myself in the stacks of the Russian collection. There were many nights well past 10:00 that I sat alone in the library flipping through back issues of Soviet Life and Огонёк.

The Library at Norwich University

The desk where I read in the library

A reading room

The old Norwich University Library

The desk in the basement of the old library where I read

In the summer of 1993 I visited Russia. Moscow, Volgograd and Astrakhan. It was one of the highlights of my life.

The obligatory Red Square shot

Russia burned itself deeper into my soul.

I finished college and it was then that I really set my head towards reading, contemplating and thinking about Russian literature. I felt that I could always keep the connection I had made with the country through its literature.

The classic Russian authors were my constant companion through some very difficult years after graduation. I smoked hand rolled cigarettes as I read “One day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” by Solzhenitsyn. I drank shots of Vodka along with the characters in “Children of the Arbat” by Rybakov. I sat in the cool autumn air…with tears in my eyes as I read “White Nights” by Dostoevsky…wondering if I would every find a love equal to the love read about in that short story. I attempted to understand the inequalities in society through the writings of Gorky and I saw the clearest descriptions of man and his being, written through the works of Tolstoy.

Because of the comfort that this literature has brought me over the years, I wish to introduce these authors to my son.

Why the Russians?

Well, as a group, I know them the best and I am the most comfortable with them. They fill my heart with peace…and that’s good enough for me.

The little guy is scheduled to arrive in early November.

I want to spend as much time as possible with my son…and when I’m with him, I’d like to be reading with him. The Russians have comforted me in the past, and I think that they will do the same for both of us during the difficult and sleepless first months of his life.

Someday, I hope that he’ll stumble across this journal as see some of my thoughts about him during his early days with us. I also hope that it will give him a glimpse into who I am…and for me, a glimpse into who I am as a father.

I want him to love and appreciate books – paper books…old paper books…my books and now, our books.

I want him to love the printed word.

And as the American author Jonathan Franzen has recently stated -

“To me, the point of a novel is to take you to a still place…

To me, the world of books is the quiet alternative, an ever more desperately needed alternative.”

I want him to recognize and appreciate the beauty of this world that these authors can convey. But I’m not so naive as to fail to recognize that with every illustration of beauty, there is its opposite.

The ugliness of this world will be discussed when the age and time deems it appropriate. The Russians I feel present this battle between the good and evil it in a way that explores the real complexities of our world in a classical way…raw and honest – in a way that our world is afraid to confront sometimes.

So, between naps, feedings, diaper changes and crying fits, I want to read and write for him.

Son, I hope you enjoy this little journey.

-Dad.

I had my own Tolstoy - your great grandfather.