Why War and Peace Is Actually A Thrilling Novel

by

Mackenzie Patel

The phrase “War and Peace” usually produces anxious groans, frustrated sighs, and terrified gasps of quick, raspy breath, especially if the person in question is unfamiliar with Russian literature. However, despite the nearly 1215 pages, the impossibly complicated Russian names, and the beautifully intricate plot, War and Peace is an enthralling novel that everyone should read at least once. I just finished this rampaging beast a few weeks ago, and it was certainly a piece of literature more explosive than dynamite. A history book and dramatic soap opera wound around each other like a grapevine, the characters laden with sweet substance. It took me approximately two months to finish the Russian epic, and it was worth every headache, itchy eye, and yawning mouth. I had to trudge through a caramel sea of Tolstoy’s philosophical musings, but despite the pedantic sections, the rest of the book was jaw-dropping and downright thrilling. *This post contains spoilers*

To begin, the amount of unforgettable, peculiar scenes was infinite. In literature, one always encounters those special passages that lodge themselves into your mind, with all their grandeur and vitality, and refuse to vacate it. War and Peace was overflowing with these literary masterpieces, each one unique and written in such an impeccable way that every English teacher should have the quotes pasted onto their cream-colored walls. First, my favorite scene of the entire book was Prince Andrei, the handsome aristocrat that was never satisfied with anything or anyone, lying wounded on the battlefield. Staring up at the world existing outside his mangled body, the force of his simple revelation was astounding.

“There was nothing over him now except the sky—the lofty sky, not clear, but still immeasurably lofty, with gray clouds slowly creeping across it. ‘How quiet, calm, and solemn, not at all like when I was running,’ thought Prince Andrei, ‘not like when we were running, shouting, and fighting; not at all like when the Frenchman and the artillerist, with angry and frightened faces, were pulling at the swab—it’s quite different the way the clouds creep across this lofty, infinite sky. How is it I haven’t seen this lofty sky before? And how happy I am that I’ve finally come to know it. Yes! Everything is empty, everything is a deception, except this infinite sky. There is nothing, nothing except that. But there is not even that, there is nothing except silence, tranquility. And thank God! …’”

The strength and variety of diction floored me, along with Andrei’s lucid thinking. Also, I’m a sucker for any passage that includes the word “infinite.” I also loved the scene when Prince Andrei fell in love with Natasha underneath her window that balmy Moscow night.

However, one truly unforgettable and bittersweet passage was the scene with Petya before his untimely and ultimately unfair death. Accompanying Denisov and Dolokhov, Petya was about to storm a camp of French troops where death was crouching in the shadows for him.

“Suddenly Petya heard an harmonious orchestra playing some unknown, sweetly solemn hymn. Petya was as musical as Natasha and more so than Nicholas, but had never learned music or thought about it, and so the melody that unexpectedly came to his mind seemed to him particularly fresh and attractive. The music became more and more audible. The melody grew and passed from one instrument to another. And what was played was a fugue—though Petya had not the least conception of what a fugue is. Each instrument—now resembling a violin and now a horn, but better and clearer than violin or horn—played its own part, and before it had finished the melody merged with another instrument that began almost the same air, and then with a third and a fourth; and they all blended into one and again became separate and again blended, now into solemn church music, now into something dazzlingly brilliant and triumphant.

“Oh—why, that was in a dream!” Petya said to himself, as he lurched forward. “It’s in my ears. But perhaps it’s music of my own. Well, go on, my music! Now!…”

He closed his eyes, and, from all sides as if from a distance, sounds fluttered, grew into harmonies, separated, blended, and again all mingled into the same sweet and solemn hymn. “Oh, this is delightful! As much as I like and as I like!” said Petya to himself. He tried to conduct that enormous orchestra.

“Now softly, softly die away!” and the sounds obeyed him. “Now fuller, more joyful. Still more and more joyful!” And from an unknown depth rose increasingly triumphant sounds. “Now voices join in!” ordered Petya. And at first from afar he heard men’s voices and then women’s. The voices grew in harmonious triumphant strength, and Petya listened to their surpassing beauty in awe and joy.”

What a jarring contrast! Petya was literally dreaming and conducting the music of life, when in a few hours, he would be shot dead.

Second, War and Peace shifted into maximum thrill overdrive with the scenes involving Natasha, Anatole, Helene, Dolokhov, and Pierre. During these parts, War and Peace was an exaggerated soap opera disguised as a timeless war novel. First, after Prince Andrei leaves Natasha for an extended period of time, she happens to catch the eye of Anatole, an attractive do-nothing that makes the cheeks of every Petersburg/Moscow lady blush. His intense gaze and lusty vibe rips Natasha apart with longing and she nearly escapes wildly in the night with her lover despite her prior engagement and precarious social standing. Most people would never expect this sexual encounter to occur in a stuffy brick like W&P, but it is just one instance of many.

“When she was not looking at him she felt that he was looking at her shoulders, and she involuntarily caught his eye so that he should look into hers rather than this. But looking into his eyes she was frightened, realizing that there was not that barrier of modesty she had always felt between herself and other men. She did not know how it was that within five minutes she had come to feel herself terribly near to this man. When she turned away she feared he might seize her from behind by her bare arm and kiss her on the neck.”

Yes, War and Peace does have multiple sexy parts.

Second, the drama rises to an unbearable climax during the turbulent marriage of Helene (sister of Anatole) and Pierre Bezukhov, the rich heir with a portly belly and simple mind. First dueling with Dolokhov, a cruel, disgraced soldier, because he had an affair with Helene, Pierre proceeded to forgot all about his wife during his involvement in the war and subsequent captivity. Meanwhile, Helene converted to Catholicism so she could marry multiple husbands at once! She met a theatrical, fitting end due to a botched abortion, which proves how little Tolstoy esteemed capable, strong-willed female characters. In addition to these gossip-laden stories, it is strongly suggested that Nikolai Rostov, brother to Natasha, was a homosexual.

Finally, War and Peace is worth reading in depth because the lessons it teaches—namely compassion, simplicity, and love—are relatable no matter what age or country one is from.  From Prince Andrei, the reader learns to forgive and even love their enemies, especially when they are getting limbs amputated in the bed next to you (shout out to Anatole). Prince Andrei also reaches a quasi-divine state of enlightenment on his deathbed, finally realizing that compassion, not selfish disdain for others, is a sentiment worth emulating. From Pierre and Platon, the reader learns that simplicity is necessary for living in this predetermined, unalterable universe of no free will and disappointment. War and Peace isn’t a giant history book more talented at collecting dust than bettering the lives of its readers. Besides, the reader gets to encounter fictionalized versions of Napoleon (who Tolstoy basically describes as a self-centered twerp) and Kutuzov (Russian commander in chief). One of my favorite quotes, nestled away in the unforgiving Second Epilogue, is

“Undoubtedly there exists a connection among all that is alive at the same time.”

All images are from Wikipedia or me