This book was truly monumental. Me with my limited knowledge of the world and the historical events could never do this classic justice. Hence, this is not a book review. [Also I chose the Briggs’ translation. It is easy to read, and very lyrical too: here is more on the different translations]
In a fiction intertwined with real historical events, Tolstoy touched on universal themes, ranging from love and marriage to historical determinism and the existence of free will.
Starting with the big things first. Historical determinism and free will - these are two weighty topics. After about 1,200 pages on the changing lives of the characters, Tolstoy went straight into a philosophical discussion on history and fate. He questioned the methods of historical inquiry, a process where book-smart theoretician stares at the past happenings, trying to isolate the causal factors that contributed to the said event. This inquiry is coloured by the subjective experience of the historian, who might, for instance, blows out of proportion the contribution by similarly smart men such as himself. But would anyone say that Rousseau’s Social Contract has significantly influenced the French Revolution? Tolstoy also questioned whether issues of causation can really be analysed as such. Napeleon’s military genius and leadership surely wasn’t sufficient, in itself, to lead the French to Moscow. There must be people who were willing to follow his command. And the same people must have been willing to group together to form an army in the first place. And these people must be willing to leave the safety of their home behind to join a never ending conquest to the east. All these factors just somehow came together, and it was not one person’s greatness alone.
This was Tolstoy’s critique to the theory that history is made by great men. As for greatness, Tolstoy was equally cynical about what makes a historical figure great. Napoleon, under Tolstoy’s pen, is just another egoistic, overconfident Man. He is no Saint, no God. When confronted with the sight of corpses, a result of his decision to go into war, he never “had the slightest understanding of goodness, beauty, truth or the significance of his own deeds, which were too far removed from truth and goodness, too remote from anything human for him to be able to grasp their significance”.
Tolstoy’s dismay with the greatness of men such as Napoleon and the Tsar, was likewise reflected in the main characters’ development. Andrey Bolkonsky and Pierre, who started off with more idealism about what these great men could represent for Russia and for the world, were wearied and disillusioned. Rather, they understood the engine of their fates and the engine of history to be “a pattern of circumstances” (Pg 1070), rather than a specific individual with radiating greatness.
The emphasis on the “pattern of circumstances” brings us to another crucial point of War and Peace - free will. It is a conversation that could go on forever, and in fact, your head must just hurt thinking about it. Tolstoy thought of free will as a balance between what we perceive as free will, and the law of necessity. Think of a widow who has to steal some bread for her starving children. To us, she was bound by the laws of necessity instead of exercising her free will. But the difficult thing about accepting our lack of free will is that we feel it so acutely. We feel that we have free will. I am choosing to type this review at the very moment, as you are choosing to read this long-winded review at the moment. That is the paradox. Tolstoy built up his formula for free will rather elegantly in Chapters 9 & 10 of Epilogue Part II.
He started off with three variables to understanding the concept of free will and necessity:
1. The relationship between the man committing the act and the external world. 2. His relationship to time. 3. His relationship between him and the causes which led to the act Taking the first factor, if we remove a man from all the external factors that influence his behaviour, he has the maximum amount of free will. But we can’t realistically have such a man in a state of vacuum.
Looking at the temporal factor, the closer in time our behaviours are, the more freedom we appear to enjoy. Such as you reading this paragraph right now, you think you are free to do so. But the further we go back in time, the law of necessity plays a weightier role, and we can’t be judged to be as free.
Lastly, Tolstoy argues that when we do not know the cause of an action, such as a crime, we attribute it to maximum free will. But when we can distil any of the innumerable causes of action, we see more of necessity.
Because of the interplay of space and time, no one is completely free but no one is completely unfree either. Necessity is the form, and free will is the content. We cannot just have one without the other. Or so Tolstoy argues. We are free to disagree with Tolstoy’s arguments, free to disagree with his critique of historical inquiry into causes and effects. But we do so realising that every single moment of our life has led us to reading about Tolstoy’s theory of free will. It has also led us to understand Tolstoy’s historical fatalism.
The ever-changing fates of the main characters in Tolstoy’s world support his theory as well. But they each have such a full and beautiful character development, that War and Peace is definitely more of a work of art than a work of philosophical musings. Natasha has grown from a naive, privileged child who shines in parties and dances, to someone who has seen great amount of suffering and has suffered in equal measure, then to a devoted mother and wife who pays no regard to her appearances. Princess Marya emerged from an unhappy family life with an emotionally abusive father, and carries the same grace, composure and spiritual devotion to her new family.
Pierre’s journey is truly remarkable. Born a bastard son and educated in France, he first appeared in the Russian social scene as a rash young man. After inheriting great fortune at a young age, he sought to find himself as a freemason, freeing himself from the trappings of his loveless marriage. What truly awakened him was not his riches or his freemason connections, but meeting Russians from other walks of life - peasants, soldiers - while he was a Prisoner of War; it was also his “tenderness and love” for Natasha, next to which “all of humanity seemed so pathetically poor”(Page 663). Because of all these twists and turns, the fates of characters against the backdrop of Napoleonic Wars (from Austerlitz to Borondino), the happy ending did not feel quite like a typical, saccharine-laced rainbow-paradise kind of ending. It ends with us feeling happy for those who survived, and bittersweet for many who did not.
The return to the classics is great. In many ways, classics serve as a reminder that things haven’t changed that much.Classics cannot be censored nor controlled. Classics crystallise universal human wisdom and truisms. Love, the pragmatic reason why people choose marriage, an aspiration towards a happy domestic life - these haven’t changed much. It is one of the books I will continue to revisit at different stages of my life.
More on what I am reading/planning to read/have read —