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A review by savvannnna
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
4.0
Anna Karenina and The Death of Ivan Ilyich are seemingly two very different works. The one is a titanic drama about the perils and bliss of romance and family happiness, while the other is a brief meditation on the transience of life. The similarities between the two, however, are greater than they at first appear; and, although Nikolai Dmitrich from Anna Karenina and the title character from The Death of Ivan Ilyich are on the surface very different characters, and while they are treated differently by the respective narrators of the texts, their lives and deaths are nonetheless paralleled. They each spend their lives alienating themselves from their own identities and from others, they both attempt to change their ways during their illnesses, and as a result they both die in peace.
The two characters are treated differently by the narrators. Nikolai Dmitrich is a fairly peripheral character in the context of the sprawling Anna Karenina, whereas the Death of Ivan Ilyich is a portrait of the title character. The Death of Ivan Ilyich explores Ivan Ilyich’s “continual despair” (The Death of Ivan Ilyich, 137) and his eventual “joy” (D of II, 161) in detail. The narrator explains Ivan Ilyich’s troubled thoughts directly, revealing to the reader the character’s wretched soul. In Anna Karenina, however, the narrator only exposes Nikolai Dmitrich’s character through the perspective of primary characters: his brother Konstantin Dmitrich and Kitty. Moreover, these characters through whom Nikolai Dmitrich is depicted each have a strained relationship with him, which distances Nikolai Dmitrich still further from the reader. At the mere thought of his estranged brother, Konstantin Dmitrich “[feels] ashamed and pained” (Anna Karenina, 36). Kitty is already disfavourably disposed towards Nikolai Dmitrich when she first meets him because of his connection to Konstantin Dmitrich, whom she is trying to forget at this point in the novel (AK 216). His physical mannerisms, too, produce in her “an irrepressible feeling of disgust” (AK 216). Thus, any sympathy which may at first be inspired by Nikolai Dmitrich conflicts with the sympathy already generated for Konstantin Dmitrich and Kitty. Precisely the opposite is true of Ivan Ilyich: the reader of The Death of Ivan Ilyich, upon becoming acquainted with the living Ivan Ilyich, is already sympathetic towards him. The “hypocrisy” (D of II 107) of the utter apathy of his comrades towards his death, described at the onset of the novel, inspires pity in the reader towards the unfortunate Ivan Ilyich, who has been so cruelly and profoundly abandoned. The reader is therefore distanced from Nikolai Dmitrich’s, whose sufferings are glimpsed only through the veil of Konstantin Dmitrich’s and Kitty’s perception, in a fundamental way that Ivan Ilyich is not.
Both Nikolai Levin and Ivan Ilyich tend towards self-alienation. From early on, Ivan Ilyich succumbs to alienation from the self. That is, he acts in a manner contrary to his natural inclinations and in doing so distances himself from his own nature. He does not cultivate his own perspective based on his own experiences and inclinations, but forces a world-view upon himself gleaned from the convictions of others. He becomes enchanted by those he views as successful, and “he adopted their ways and views on life” (D of II 110). He purposely suppresses his own personality and values and forces upon himself those held by the people presented by society as successful. That he does indeed force these views upon himself, in a very unnatural and stifling way, is evident in the way that “ as a law student he [does] things which had before seemed to him vile” (D of II 111). Although he finds these activities “vile” and they make him veritably “disgusted”, Ivan Ilyich is able to suppress his natural disinclinations by alienating himself so completely from them that he can “simply [...] forget” or “not be at all troubled by their recollection” (Ibid). He has tried to change himself so completely that he feels like “someone else” (D of II 152). He himself acknowledges that this behaviour is unnatural, when he remarks upon those “scarcely detected inclinations of his to fight against what the most highly placed people regarded as good” which he has all his life “immediately suppressed” (D of II 157).
It is much more difficult to explore Nikolai Dmitrich’s relationship with himself because of the distance imposed by the narrator. However, if one scrutinizes the text carefully, there is evidence that Nikolai Dmitrich is suffers from the same self-alienation as Ivan Ilyich. There is one passage in particular, when he pays a visits Konstantin Dmitrich at their family farm, which offers a rare and significant glimpse into his nature: “Nikolai said that he had come to receive the money and, above all, to visit his own nest, to touch the soil, in order to gather strength” (AK 347). He seems at first, like Ivan Ilyich, to be concerned with material conditions, but as with Ivan Ilyich his motives are more complex: he has come because of a personal compulsion to be closer to his former self. This implies that he, too, suffers from self-alienation. Indeed, this embracing of his own past makes the usually “irritable” Nikolai Dmitrich “gentle and cheerful” (AK 349, 347). Although much less clearly than Ilvan Ilyich, Nikolai Dmitrich is also deeply affected by an estrangement from his own personality, and this is likely the cause of his outward aggression.
C. J. G. Turner writes that Ilvan Ilyich “had deliberately fenced himself off from everything that threatened his own comfort and material well-being” (Turner, 49). While it is indeed important to note that his “fencing off” is “deliberate,” it is naive to claim that he is avoiding merely threats to his own “comfort.” This cannot be the case, for as we have seen, this distancing himself causes him anxiety. The effort of behaving so insincerely left him “tired and feeling like some artist” (D of II 123). Moreover, it does not seem that he behaves this way in pursuit of material gain, but rather because quite simply he thinks it is the proper and therefore necessary way to lead his life. The motivation behind Nikolai Dmitrich’s self-alienation is less clear; yet there is evidence that it too is done “deliberately” (Turner, 49). While Ivan Ilyich represses his personality because it is not in harmony with his notion of the proper, Nikolai Dmitrich represses his because he (like everyone else) finds himself too intense: throughout his life, he seeks out different associations and subscribes to different ideas “as a bridle for his passionate nature” (AK 85). He too is uncomfortable with himself, not because he deems himself improper, but because he finds “his irrepressible character” to differ from what is “good” (Ibid). His dislike for himself is so strong that he seeks out these associations as “an anchor saving him from despising himself” (AK 88). The self-repression of both these characters is not simply a matter of material worldly progress, but of profound psychological malaise.
Ivan Ilyich and Nikolai Dmitrich are estranged not only from themselves, but also from their closest relations. From the beginning, Ivan Ilyich is completely emotionally detached from his wife. From the dawn of their relationship, he views her in objectifying terms: “She was well connected, and was a sweet, pretty and perfectly comme il faut young woman.” (D of II 114) We can see here that he does not value Praskovya Fiodorovna for any special internal qualities she may have, but rather for her external traits which can be appreciated by other people. All of the adjectives he employs, “well connected,” “sweet,” “pretty,” and “comme il faut” are external qualities that as superficial as they are commonplace. This initial unconcerned obliviousness towards his wife’s personality intensifies into blatant unconcern for her emotional well-being. Although he purposely avoids spending time with her, he believes that her quite reasonable desire for closeness with him is “without any sort of justification” (D of II 115). He is equally distant from his children, having no emotional bond with them, and only “wrangling” with his wife over their education and their “[turning] out well” (D of II 117).
Nikolai Dmitrich also alienates himself from his family. He has grown very distant from his two brothers, Konstantin Dmitrich and Sergei Ivanovitch, having “quarreled with [them]” (AK 26). Upon returning to St Petersburg, rather than seeking them out, he writes them a note “humbly [begging them] to leave [him] alone” (Ibid). He also maintains a distance between himself and his spouse, Marya Nikolaevna, threatening to “beat” her (AK 89) and calling her “a nasty woman” (AK 347) even though she a gentle creature. The utter apathy of Ivan Ilyich, however, is lacking in Nikolai Dmitrich. Paradoxically, even while driving others away, Nikolai Dmitrich because of his passionate nature harbours feelings of “love and respect” for them (AK 87), whereas Ivan Ilyich is so alienated from others that he feels no personal connection with them at all. Despite the differences in the intensity of their alienation, in The Death of Ivan Ilyich and Anna Karenina, both Ivan Ilyich and Nikolai Dmitrich maintain an emotional separation between themselves and their closest relations.
Illness, and with it the realization of the inevitability of death, catalyses in both characters an emotional crisis and an urgent need to change their isolating ways. It is only when Ivan Ilyich grasps the imminence of his demise that he appreciates the horror of his life, which is like “[living] on the edge of the precipice alone, without a single soul to understand and feel for him” (D of II 132). With this realization, he begins to show a new and profound appreciation for himself, thinking of himself as “little Vanya, Ivan Ilyich, with all [his] thoughts and emotions” (D of II 137). He cannot, as with his previous disturbing impressions, replace this “morbid thought […] with other proper, wholesome thoughts” and in this way is forced to face the reality of his existence, no longer being able to lean on the crutch of what is “proper” (D of II 138). The dying Ivan Ilyich now craves a communion with others previously shunned, and the principle outlet for this craving is his servant, Gerassim. Surprising even himself, Ivan Ilyich “[feels] his presence such a comfort that he [does] not want to let him go” and is greatly soothed by his company (D of II 141). What is precisely so refreshing about Gerassim is that he is “the only person” who feels “sorry” for Ivan Ilyich (D of II 143). Although he has always isolated himself, now “the idea of being left alone [fills] Ivan Ilyich with dread” (D of II, 145). He is at last aware that he “did not live as [he] should,” having wasted his time on mundane affairs rather than giving his life significance by forging personal relationships (D of II 153). It is only in his final moments, overwhelmed with love for his family and an acceptance of himself, that his “pain” leaves him and he experiences “joy” for the first time (D of II 161).
Although the details of Nikolai Dmitrich’s final struggle against his alienating ways are hidden, we can see that he undergoes a similar transition. Where he has hitherto been harsh and demanding towards his spouse, upon his deathbed he “[expresses] satisfaction” towards her presence and is “afraid to frighten her” (AK 491). Similarly, when his brother expects him to “get angry” with Kitty’s control over his upkeep, he instead is “only embarrassed” (AK 494). He replaces his habitual twitchy scorn with gestures of affection, “[stroking]” Kitty’s hand and “[drawing Konstantin Dmitrich’s] to his mouth and [kissing] it” (AK 495). Although these attempts at closeness with others is sporadic and inconsistent, it nonetheless reveals that Nikolai Dmitrich, like Ivan Ilyich, is putting forth an unprecedented effort. Having also reinvented himself, he, much like Ivan Ilyich, finds peace at last, as “his face [brightens]” and “a smile [shows]” in his final moments (AK 504). Both characters are able to die finally in peace, having worked to establish a closeness to others and a harmony with their own identity.
Although Nikolai Dmitrich and Ivan Ilyich have many superficial differences, their lives entail the same compulsion to alienate, their illness the same moral revelation, and their deaths the same struggle for peace. David Holbrook foolishly writes that The Death of Ivan Ilyich is nothing more than “morbidly preoccupied with death, and, so, tedious” (258), but Tolstoy’s treatment of the death of both characters is neither morbid nor tedious. Ironically, it is the deaths of Nikolai Dmitrich and Ivan Ilyich which enliven the characters, raising them above mere fiction--Tolstoy uses their deaths to convey the importance of being truly alive, of living life significantly. As Gary R. Jahn writes, “it is not just that death exists, it is the thought, ‘I, too, will die’” that Tolstoy uses to reach out to his reader in a very moving way (85). The great suffering and eventual triumph of these characters teaches us that “the approach to the good in life by means of selfishness leads only to a dead end of never-quite-fulfilled desires” Jahn, 100) and that life’s good must be attained through love. The death of these characters is more than a macabre fixation, it is on the contrary a deeply moving and effective moral provocation.
WORKS CITED
Tolstoy, Leo. Anna Karenina: A Novel in Eight Parts. Trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. New York: Penguin Books, 2000.
Tolstoy, Leo. The Death of Ivan Ilyich. The Death of Ivan Ilyich and Other Stories. Trans. Rosemary Edmonds. England: Penguin Books, 1960.
Holbrook, David. Tolstoy, Woman, and Death: A Study of War and Peace and Anna Karenina. London: Associated University Press, 1997.
Jahn, Gary R. The Death of Ivan Ilich: An Interpretation. New York: Twayne Publishers, 1993.
Turner, C. J. G. Ivan Il’ich--Resident and Stranger. Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Il’ich: A Critical Companion. Ed. Gary R. Jahn. Illinois: Northwestern University Press, 1999.
The two characters are treated differently by the narrators. Nikolai Dmitrich is a fairly peripheral character in the context of the sprawling Anna Karenina, whereas the Death of Ivan Ilyich is a portrait of the title character. The Death of Ivan Ilyich explores Ivan Ilyich’s “continual despair” (The Death of Ivan Ilyich, 137) and his eventual “joy” (D of II, 161) in detail. The narrator explains Ivan Ilyich’s troubled thoughts directly, revealing to the reader the character’s wretched soul. In Anna Karenina, however, the narrator only exposes Nikolai Dmitrich’s character through the perspective of primary characters: his brother Konstantin Dmitrich and Kitty. Moreover, these characters through whom Nikolai Dmitrich is depicted each have a strained relationship with him, which distances Nikolai Dmitrich still further from the reader. At the mere thought of his estranged brother, Konstantin Dmitrich “[feels] ashamed and pained” (Anna Karenina, 36). Kitty is already disfavourably disposed towards Nikolai Dmitrich when she first meets him because of his connection to Konstantin Dmitrich, whom she is trying to forget at this point in the novel (AK 216). His physical mannerisms, too, produce in her “an irrepressible feeling of disgust” (AK 216). Thus, any sympathy which may at first be inspired by Nikolai Dmitrich conflicts with the sympathy already generated for Konstantin Dmitrich and Kitty. Precisely the opposite is true of Ivan Ilyich: the reader of The Death of Ivan Ilyich, upon becoming acquainted with the living Ivan Ilyich, is already sympathetic towards him. The “hypocrisy” (D of II 107) of the utter apathy of his comrades towards his death, described at the onset of the novel, inspires pity in the reader towards the unfortunate Ivan Ilyich, who has been so cruelly and profoundly abandoned. The reader is therefore distanced from Nikolai Dmitrich’s, whose sufferings are glimpsed only through the veil of Konstantin Dmitrich’s and Kitty’s perception, in a fundamental way that Ivan Ilyich is not.
Both Nikolai Levin and Ivan Ilyich tend towards self-alienation. From early on, Ivan Ilyich succumbs to alienation from the self. That is, he acts in a manner contrary to his natural inclinations and in doing so distances himself from his own nature. He does not cultivate his own perspective based on his own experiences and inclinations, but forces a world-view upon himself gleaned from the convictions of others. He becomes enchanted by those he views as successful, and “he adopted their ways and views on life” (D of II 110). He purposely suppresses his own personality and values and forces upon himself those held by the people presented by society as successful. That he does indeed force these views upon himself, in a very unnatural and stifling way, is evident in the way that “ as a law student he [does] things which had before seemed to him vile” (D of II 111). Although he finds these activities “vile” and they make him veritably “disgusted”, Ivan Ilyich is able to suppress his natural disinclinations by alienating himself so completely from them that he can “simply [...] forget” or “not be at all troubled by their recollection” (Ibid). He has tried to change himself so completely that he feels like “someone else” (D of II 152). He himself acknowledges that this behaviour is unnatural, when he remarks upon those “scarcely detected inclinations of his to fight against what the most highly placed people regarded as good” which he has all his life “immediately suppressed” (D of II 157).
It is much more difficult to explore Nikolai Dmitrich’s relationship with himself because of the distance imposed by the narrator. However, if one scrutinizes the text carefully, there is evidence that Nikolai Dmitrich is suffers from the same self-alienation as Ivan Ilyich. There is one passage in particular, when he pays a visits Konstantin Dmitrich at their family farm, which offers a rare and significant glimpse into his nature: “Nikolai said that he had come to receive the money and, above all, to visit his own nest, to touch the soil, in order to gather strength” (AK 347). He seems at first, like Ivan Ilyich, to be concerned with material conditions, but as with Ivan Ilyich his motives are more complex: he has come because of a personal compulsion to be closer to his former self. This implies that he, too, suffers from self-alienation. Indeed, this embracing of his own past makes the usually “irritable” Nikolai Dmitrich “gentle and cheerful” (AK 349, 347). Although much less clearly than Ilvan Ilyich, Nikolai Dmitrich is also deeply affected by an estrangement from his own personality, and this is likely the cause of his outward aggression.
C. J. G. Turner writes that Ilvan Ilyich “had deliberately fenced himself off from everything that threatened his own comfort and material well-being” (Turner, 49). While it is indeed important to note that his “fencing off” is “deliberate,” it is naive to claim that he is avoiding merely threats to his own “comfort.” This cannot be the case, for as we have seen, this distancing himself causes him anxiety. The effort of behaving so insincerely left him “tired and feeling like some artist” (D of II 123). Moreover, it does not seem that he behaves this way in pursuit of material gain, but rather because quite simply he thinks it is the proper and therefore necessary way to lead his life. The motivation behind Nikolai Dmitrich’s self-alienation is less clear; yet there is evidence that it too is done “deliberately” (Turner, 49). While Ivan Ilyich represses his personality because it is not in harmony with his notion of the proper, Nikolai Dmitrich represses his because he (like everyone else) finds himself too intense: throughout his life, he seeks out different associations and subscribes to different ideas “as a bridle for his passionate nature” (AK 85). He too is uncomfortable with himself, not because he deems himself improper, but because he finds “his irrepressible character” to differ from what is “good” (Ibid). His dislike for himself is so strong that he seeks out these associations as “an anchor saving him from despising himself” (AK 88). The self-repression of both these characters is not simply a matter of material worldly progress, but of profound psychological malaise.
Ivan Ilyich and Nikolai Dmitrich are estranged not only from themselves, but also from their closest relations. From the beginning, Ivan Ilyich is completely emotionally detached from his wife. From the dawn of their relationship, he views her in objectifying terms: “She was well connected, and was a sweet, pretty and perfectly comme il faut young woman.” (D of II 114) We can see here that he does not value Praskovya Fiodorovna for any special internal qualities she may have, but rather for her external traits which can be appreciated by other people. All of the adjectives he employs, “well connected,” “sweet,” “pretty,” and “comme il faut” are external qualities that as superficial as they are commonplace. This initial unconcerned obliviousness towards his wife’s personality intensifies into blatant unconcern for her emotional well-being. Although he purposely avoids spending time with her, he believes that her quite reasonable desire for closeness with him is “without any sort of justification” (D of II 115). He is equally distant from his children, having no emotional bond with them, and only “wrangling” with his wife over their education and their “[turning] out well” (D of II 117).
Nikolai Dmitrich also alienates himself from his family. He has grown very distant from his two brothers, Konstantin Dmitrich and Sergei Ivanovitch, having “quarreled with [them]” (AK 26). Upon returning to St Petersburg, rather than seeking them out, he writes them a note “humbly [begging them] to leave [him] alone” (Ibid). He also maintains a distance between himself and his spouse, Marya Nikolaevna, threatening to “beat” her (AK 89) and calling her “a nasty woman” (AK 347) even though she a gentle creature. The utter apathy of Ivan Ilyich, however, is lacking in Nikolai Dmitrich. Paradoxically, even while driving others away, Nikolai Dmitrich because of his passionate nature harbours feelings of “love and respect” for them (AK 87), whereas Ivan Ilyich is so alienated from others that he feels no personal connection with them at all. Despite the differences in the intensity of their alienation, in The Death of Ivan Ilyich and Anna Karenina, both Ivan Ilyich and Nikolai Dmitrich maintain an emotional separation between themselves and their closest relations.
Illness, and with it the realization of the inevitability of death, catalyses in both characters an emotional crisis and an urgent need to change their isolating ways. It is only when Ivan Ilyich grasps the imminence of his demise that he appreciates the horror of his life, which is like “[living] on the edge of the precipice alone, without a single soul to understand and feel for him” (D of II 132). With this realization, he begins to show a new and profound appreciation for himself, thinking of himself as “little Vanya, Ivan Ilyich, with all [his] thoughts and emotions” (D of II 137). He cannot, as with his previous disturbing impressions, replace this “morbid thought […] with other proper, wholesome thoughts” and in this way is forced to face the reality of his existence, no longer being able to lean on the crutch of what is “proper” (D of II 138). The dying Ivan Ilyich now craves a communion with others previously shunned, and the principle outlet for this craving is his servant, Gerassim. Surprising even himself, Ivan Ilyich “[feels] his presence such a comfort that he [does] not want to let him go” and is greatly soothed by his company (D of II 141). What is precisely so refreshing about Gerassim is that he is “the only person” who feels “sorry” for Ivan Ilyich (D of II 143). Although he has always isolated himself, now “the idea of being left alone [fills] Ivan Ilyich with dread” (D of II, 145). He is at last aware that he “did not live as [he] should,” having wasted his time on mundane affairs rather than giving his life significance by forging personal relationships (D of II 153). It is only in his final moments, overwhelmed with love for his family and an acceptance of himself, that his “pain” leaves him and he experiences “joy” for the first time (D of II 161).
Although the details of Nikolai Dmitrich’s final struggle against his alienating ways are hidden, we can see that he undergoes a similar transition. Where he has hitherto been harsh and demanding towards his spouse, upon his deathbed he “[expresses] satisfaction” towards her presence and is “afraid to frighten her” (AK 491). Similarly, when his brother expects him to “get angry” with Kitty’s control over his upkeep, he instead is “only embarrassed” (AK 494). He replaces his habitual twitchy scorn with gestures of affection, “[stroking]” Kitty’s hand and “[drawing Konstantin Dmitrich’s] to his mouth and [kissing] it” (AK 495). Although these attempts at closeness with others is sporadic and inconsistent, it nonetheless reveals that Nikolai Dmitrich, like Ivan Ilyich, is putting forth an unprecedented effort. Having also reinvented himself, he, much like Ivan Ilyich, finds peace at last, as “his face [brightens]” and “a smile [shows]” in his final moments (AK 504). Both characters are able to die finally in peace, having worked to establish a closeness to others and a harmony with their own identity.
Although Nikolai Dmitrich and Ivan Ilyich have many superficial differences, their lives entail the same compulsion to alienate, their illness the same moral revelation, and their deaths the same struggle for peace. David Holbrook foolishly writes that The Death of Ivan Ilyich is nothing more than “morbidly preoccupied with death, and, so, tedious” (258), but Tolstoy’s treatment of the death of both characters is neither morbid nor tedious. Ironically, it is the deaths of Nikolai Dmitrich and Ivan Ilyich which enliven the characters, raising them above mere fiction--Tolstoy uses their deaths to convey the importance of being truly alive, of living life significantly. As Gary R. Jahn writes, “it is not just that death exists, it is the thought, ‘I, too, will die’” that Tolstoy uses to reach out to his reader in a very moving way (85). The great suffering and eventual triumph of these characters teaches us that “the approach to the good in life by means of selfishness leads only to a dead end of never-quite-fulfilled desires” Jahn, 100) and that life’s good must be attained through love. The death of these characters is more than a macabre fixation, it is on the contrary a deeply moving and effective moral provocation.
WORKS CITED
Tolstoy, Leo. Anna Karenina: A Novel in Eight Parts. Trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. New York: Penguin Books, 2000.
Tolstoy, Leo. The Death of Ivan Ilyich. The Death of Ivan Ilyich and Other Stories. Trans. Rosemary Edmonds. England: Penguin Books, 1960.
Holbrook, David. Tolstoy, Woman, and Death: A Study of War and Peace and Anna Karenina. London: Associated University Press, 1997.
Jahn, Gary R. The Death of Ivan Ilich: An Interpretation. New York: Twayne Publishers, 1993.
Turner, C. J. G. Ivan Il’ich--Resident and Stranger. Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Il’ich: A Critical Companion. Ed. Gary R. Jahn. Illinois: Northwestern University Press, 1999.