Creating Anna Karenina

by Bob Blaisdell

  On that same day, Tolstoy, while in negotiations with Katkov at the Russian Herald, also offered the novel to Nekrasov’s Notes from the Fatherland:

  A need for ten thousand has forced me to retreat from my intention to print my novel in book form. I considered myself bound by an accidentally given promise to Russky vestnik [the Russian Herald] to publish it with them, if I did decide to publish in a magazine, and therefore made them an offer to give their magazine twenty printer’s sheets of my novel,XXX at the rate of 500 rubles per sheet and payment to me of ten thousand in advance, with the commitment, in case I did not turn in the manuscript within a specified time, to repay this money, and with the right to print the novel separately after the publication of the last parts in the magazine. They began to haggle, and I was very glad that by this they freed me of my promise. I am now making the same offer to you, informing you beforehand that I will not yield from my stated terms, and at the same time, knowing that the terms offered by me are difficult for a magazine, I will not be at all surprised if you do not accept them, and your refusal will in no way, I hope, change those good relations that I have again entered into with you. The novel will probably consist of forty printer’s sheets. The printing of the conclusion, whether in your magazine or separately, will depend on our future agreement.XXXI

  The Jubilee editors say that Tolstoy did not send this letter to Nekrasov, but if that’s true, how did Nekrasov know the terms Tolstoy was asking for? On that same day, Nekrasov wrote to Tolstoy agreeing to Tolstoy’s conditions for the novel… but it was too late!XXXII The Russian Herald after all agreed to all of Tolstoy’s terms and would pay him 20,000 rubles to publish the entire novel in the magazine and grant Tolstoy some leeway about missing deadlines.

  Strakhov, concerned about Tolstoy’s negotiations with the Russian Herald, squawked:

  Your intention to sell the novel to Russky vestnik disturbs me very much: I have a foreboding that you will not come to an agreement. Russky vestnik has too few subscribers and from their dealings with Dostoevsky I know how stingy they are. And did not Nekrasov start negotiations with you? He asked me to make you an offer and even to help him out, “since Tolstoi is a self-willed person; he very likely will be obstinate.” I was in no hurry to write you about this, knowing that Nekrasov himself is in correspondence with you; as far as concerns my persuading you in his favor—I do not want to.XXXIII

  Strakhov’s foreboding was mistimed and slightly misplaced. Tolstoy’s troubles with Katkov, the editor at the Russian Herald, would only come to a head three years later with the Epilogue (Part 8) of the novel, which Katkov would refuse to print. But Strakhov’s main point in this letter was his praise of Anna Karenina: “I return to your novel. As usual with me, the more I read the more I begin loving and understanding it. How charming—the scene of Levin’s declaration of love! The scholarly conversation of Levin’s brother—also inimitable! How fresh all this is, new and endlessly true and sharp! The conversation in the restaurant seemed to me a little long. Of course, that does not matter, as it still has all your worthy skill.”XXXIV

  When Tolstoy wrote his brother Sergei sometime shortly after his return with Tanya from Moscow, he did not seem relieved of his worries, responsibilities, or gloominess: “We could die soon and in that world God knows whether we’ll see each other again.”XXXV

  For most of November, Tolstoy, though now contractually obligated to write, remained uninspired about resuming the novel.

  Sofia wrote her brother Stepan: “Levochka has gone completely into public education, schools, teacher training, that is where he will teach the teachers for public schools, and all this occupies him from morning to night. I with confusion look at all this, I’m concerned for his strength, which he spends on these activities, and not on writing the novel. And I don’t understand how far this is useful, as far as all this action is extended over a little corner of Russia—Krapivensky Uezd.”XXXVI

  In retrospect, Sofia’s completely reasonable concern was needless. Gusev suggests that Tolstoy found her concerns easy to ignore, but without her anxious pressure, would Tolstoy have definitely returned to the novel?

  In the midst of training teachers, of planning for the district schools, of going hunting, it’s impossible to tell if he was also reconceptualizing Anna Karenina.

  Besides the first dozen or so chapters that he would send the Russian Herald on January 4, 1875, he had hundreds of pages of very rough drafts. He was avoiding the grind of the novel—but not other hard work.

  In her search for occupation, Tolstoy’s heroine will eventually expend her energy writing a children’s novel; perhaps in his search for occupation, Tolstoy spent his energy on not writing a novel.

  Sofia wrote her sister Tatyana: “The novel is not being written, but letters are showering us from all the editors: ten thousand before and five hundred silver rubles per sheet. Levochka doesn’t speak about this, and it’s as if the business doesn’t touch him.”XXXVII She went on: “Never mind the money, it’s his vocation, writing the novels, which I love, value, and feel so enthusiastic about, while these ABCs, arithmetics, and grammars I despise… What’s lacking in my life now is Lyovochka’s work, which I always enjoyed and admired. You see, Tanya, I am a true writer’s wife, so close to my heart do I keep our creative work.”XXXVIII

  Tolstoy was avoiding confiding in or explaining to Sofia his difficulties with the novel.

  On the 11th of December Tolstoy again went to Moscow to look for tutors for his children; he also saw Katkov about the novel.XXXIX

  Ten days later he sent Katkov a piece of the manuscript via his nephew. Tolstoy told the editor that he would send more “tomorrow, or at the latest the day after tomorrow,”XL but he does not seem to have done so. Katkov would have to get used to Tolstoy’s many missed deadlines, but the novel would indeed begin coming out at the very end of January 1875.

  In his December letter to Alexandrine, we see that Tolstoy continued to avoid working on the novel:

  […] You say that we are like a squirrel in a wheel. Of course. But you mustn’t say it or think it. I, at least, whatever I do, am always convinced that du haut de ces pyramides, 40 siecles me contemplent [from the top of these pyramids, 40 centuries contemplate me], and that the whole world will perish if I come to a stop.XLI

  What a wonderful image of energizing vanity! I must! I have a quest! I am important! He had used this phrase in reference to Napoleon’s self-admiration in War and Peace, and though Tolstoy despised Napoleon, he understood his vanity. We can believe that Tolstoy, when he wasn’t badmouthing himself, really did feel himself on the heights, obliged to complete his work, whether it was the novel or, as he preferred for the moment, plans for revamping education:

  True, an imp sits there winking and saying that it’s all just threshing the water, but I don’t let him have his way, and you mustn’t, either. […] I’ve now moved over entirely from abstract pedagogics to a matter which is on the one hand practical and on the other hand very abstract—the matter of schools in our district. And I’ve again taken a great liking, as I did fourteen years ago, to the thousands of children that I’m concerned with. I ask everyone why we want to educate the people; and there are five answers. Tell me your answer when you have a chance. This is mine. I don’t reason about it, but when I enter a school and see this crowd of ragged, dirty, skinny children with their bright eyes and often angelic expressions, alarm and terror come over me, not unlike what I’d feel at seeing people drowning. Ah, goodness me!—how can I pull them out, and who should I pull out first and who next? And what is drowning here is what is most precious—just the very spiritual qualities that strike one so obviously in children. I want education for the people simply in order to save those drowning Pushkins, Ostrogradskys, Filarets, and Lomonsovs. Every school is teeming with them. […]XLII

  As touching as his image of saving the drowning children is, his letter is still only a clever excuse for not working on Anna Karenina. He wanted this reason to be the prima
ry reason, but he himself couldn’t love “thousands of children.” He will soon have Anna herself say so to Levin.XLIII There is no one that Tolstoy liked who is an abstraction.

  Tolstoy concluded his letter to Alexandrine, again trying to justify his lack of movement with Anna Karenina:

  I’ve promised to publish my novel in the Russian Herald, but so far I’ve been quite unable to tear myself away from living people in order to devote myself to imaginary ones.XLIV

  Tolstoy was feeling as if Anna Karenina would be taking him away from his real work, his good work—and how could one justify making art in the presence of “drowning children”? Why shouldn’t one sacrifice making art for the sake of “the people”?

  But with the deadline coming and the money needed, he finally had to work on the novel. He dashed off a brief letter to Strakhov:

  […] I’ve delivered my novel to Katkov (verballyXLV), and your advice to do so made me decide. As it was, I was hesitating. I’m still busy with the Primer, a Grammar, and the schools in the district, and I haven’t the heart to get down to the novel. However, I must do so now, since I’ve promised. […]XLVI

  Sofia remembered: “The year ended very quietly. For the holidays we had a family Christmas tree party which included the servants’ and peasants’ children. […] All the presents and toys Lev Nikolaevich bought in Moscow, where he went not long before Christmas.”XLVII

  This means that on December 11, in the midst of negotiations about the novel and searching for teachers, Tolstoy was also toy shopping for his children. Today, visitors to Yasnaya Polyana and the Tolstoy house-museum in Moscow can’t help noticing the abundance of charming children’s toys on display in the bedrooms. The biographer Rosamund Bartlett says, however, that Tolstoy “was not at all keen on toys, which were banished from the nursery, forcing Sonya to produce horses and dogs out of cardboard, and sew rag-dolls herself so the children had something to play with.” She adds: “Christmas in Russia was about the only time the Tolstoy children were allowed toys. Tanya in particular cherished the dolls her godfather Dmitry Alexeyevich [D’yakov] gave her…”XLVIII I believe that the evidence of the actual toys means the children did have plenty of toys and that Tolstoy had enjoyed shopping for them. (In December of 1872, Tolstoy told his sister-in-law Tatyana of their Christmas preparations, “toys everywhere in boxes,”XLIX and of the children looking where they were not supposed to.)

  Before New Year’s Day, Tolstoy wrote to Fet, encouraging him to write and to visit. As for news, he told Fet that he and the family had had a tough winter, but, thank God, they had returned “to our normal life.”L

  7 Anna Karenina: The Serial: January–June 1875

  “You and your novels—for already a long time are the best parts of my life.”

  —Nikolai StrakhovI

  In early January, Tolstoy opened the mail and read Strakhov’s New Year’s wishes: “There’s nothing I so desire as that you work on your novel.” Strakhov was in Petersburg having read (in galleys or manuscript, it’s not clear) the first part of Anna Karenina, and he was marveling at it. “This image of passion in all its charm and in all its humiliation does not go out of my head. You didn’t tell me or write whether it’s true I understand your novel; but I understand it like so. Karenina is so sympathetic and good in her soul that the first exposure, the first signs of the fate awaiting her don’t yet carry her away. She gives her whole soul to one desire—she gives herself to the devil, and there’s no exit for her. You have an endless most original exhibition of passion. You don’t idealize her or humiliate her, you are the only fair person, so that your Anna Karenina excites an endless pity for her and yet it’s wholly clear that she is guilty. If I don’t understand it right, please write me.”

  Knowing his friend’s tendencies to put off the artistic work for other projects, Strakhov added the nudge: “The most beneficial thing for the novel will be if it appears uninterrupted—how good that would be!”II Strakhov’s advice was on the money (in the same letter he also complimented Tolstoy “on the money” that he was going to earn for the magazine publication).

  On the other hand, we don’t have to agree with Strakhov’s judgment that Anna is “guilty.” Quibbling over the English translation, if one translates his “vinovata” as “blame-worthy” or “at fault,” we could agree that she’s to blame, too. She’s partly at fault. But to blame for what? The novel, after all, is full of “I’m to blame” or “I’m guilty” statements, and yet each time it happens, we wonder and the characters wonder, “Is being to blame simply being oneself? I am I and that’s my fault?” Tolstoy has Stiva provide us the first example of this philosophical quandary in Part 1, Chapter 1:

  “Ah, ah, ah! Oo!…” he muttered, recalling everything that had happened. And again every detail of his quarrel with his wife was present to his imagination, all the hopelessness of his position, and worst of all, his own fault.

  “Yes, she won’t forgive me, and she can’t forgive me. And the most awful thing about it is that it’s all my fault—all my fault, though I’m not to blame. That’s the point of the whole situation,” he reflected.III

  On January 4, Tolstoy wrote an excuse letter, without quite blaming himself, to editor Katkov: “I’ve been sick—and could only finish three sheets; I’ll send the rest, I hope, in about three days.”IV He probably did not send the rest in three days; he could have brought the rest ten days later when he took the train to Moscow and met with Katkov.V

  Perhaps while he was in Moscow he wrote the lone letter to Sofia that survives from 1875. It was about the business he had been conducting, but he also mentioned that he was sick, hadn’t eaten all day, and was suffering a migraine, the first migraine he had noted since a letter in 1867.

  For the next several months, Tolstoy’s attention would now and then be distracted from Anna Karenina by looking after the printing of the New Azbuka; his niece Varya’s husband, Nagornov, continued serving as the business manager of that project.

  At the end of January, simultaneously with the first installment of Anna Karenina appearing in the Russian Herald, Katkov’s brother killed himself. Tolstoy wrote the editor a letter of condolence: “I only just heard, dear Mikhail Nikiforovich, about the unhappiness befallen you. Believe, from my entire soul, how I feel your woe and understand the heaviness of your loss. However rarely I met up with the deceased, I understood clearly how highly I valued him when I received this sad news. From my whole soul, I wish you the strength for moving beyond your woe and I ask you to believe in the sincerity of my feelings for you.”VI

  He was properly sympathetic, but the timing did not seem to Tolstoy an ominous coincidence. There really had been a rash of suicides in Russia, and Katkov’s brother had had a history of violence and mental illness. Soon this “trend” of suicide would only confirm for Tolstoy the presence of a universal despair.VII In his own depression that would descend on him this year, the country’s increasing number of suicides would make him wonder why there weren’t more.

  1875 cover of Russkiy VestnikVIII

  The January issue of the Russian Herald, the first of 1875, came out on January 28. This was usual during Tolstoy’s time (and common enough in ours in academic journals); that is, the publication date caught (or missed) the end rather than the beginning of the stated publishing month. The first installment of Anna Karenina contained Chapters 1–14 (1–23 in the book edition), which make up the first two-thirds of what we know as Part 1.

  Can we imagine ourselves well-off educated Russians and that it’s the middle of winter, 1875? There’s a fat issue of the Russian Herald that has been delivered in the mail. Being bookish sorts, we’re going to survey the table of contents (printed on the front). And yes, here, what we had heard rumors of, is the beginning of a novel by Lev Tolstoy!

  Anna Karenina? The title indicates a heroine, not a theme like War and Peace.

  Let’s open to it!

  There’s an epigraph, which are usually so obscure, but this one looks plain enoug
h: “Vengeance is Mine, and I will repay.”

  Vengeance? Who’s going to pay back whom? Oh, right, the uppercase “Mine” means it’s God Himself.

  And now the first sentence: “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”IX

  Is that true?

  That is true!

  Well, let’s see if that’s true.

  It’s the middle of winter. We can get away with reading these chapters before anybody else in the house gets his or her hands on the copy. And we do read them; it takes a couple of hours, but we, having just experienced one of the greatest literary pleasures of our lives, exclaim with wonder and want to start reading it all over again:

  The confusion in the Oblonsky house. The kids running around like crazy. The servants looking for positions elsewhere. Stiva waking up to his sweet dream of attractive women dancing around and his hearing an operatic voice. Then he remembers why he has woken up in the wrong room. He recalls the scene of three nights ago when he came home and his wife confronted him with the love letter to him from his mistress, the children’s ex-governess! He blames himself but also his, as if independent of him, stupid smile! How can we be so delighted by this rascal? But everyone in the novel who knows him is similarly charmed. He tries to restore to himself the pleasure he had in the dream, but duties call. He talks to his valet and sees his barber and reads his mail and telegrams, learning that his sister, Anna Karenina herself, has responded to his plea for help and will be arriving in Moscow from Petersburg the next day. He dresses and Tolstoy tells us something of Stiva’s “liberal” political background and work habits.