Finished…so now what?

I finished War and Peace this morning. Not sure what to make of it. I really enjoyed reading it, but came away unsatisfied as far as the story goes. This is, of course, because my favorite character, Prince Andrey Bolkonsky died, and his son, who lived with his aunt, Marya (my second favorite character) has no real father figure. Seriously, I almost stopped reading after Andrey died, there was no real point in continuing. I'm glad I continued though, because had I stopped, I never would have read the epilogue.

In the epilogue, Tolstoy says: "Then as now much time was spent arguing about the rights of women, husband-and-wife relationships and freedom and rights within marriage…. Questions like these, then as now, existed exclusively for people who see marriage only in terms of satisfaction given and received by the married couple, though this is only one principle of married life rather than its overall meaning, which lies in the family. All the latest issues and debates, such as the problem of getting maximum pleasure out of eating your dinner, did not exist then, and do not exist now for people who see dinner as a source of nourishment, and family life as the aim of marriage."

The epilogue is centered around two families that are very much alike: wives utterly devoted to their husbands, and husbands utterly devoted to their wives…and both completely devoted to their children. Unlike the other women of their class, who spent their time getting dolled up for soirees and pursuing their own interests, Natasha and Marya focus their lives around their families. Unlike the men of their class, Nikolay and Pierre do their work, but neglect the wealthy society and focus on their family (Nikolay was not well liked by the gentry, because he actually treated the peasants as people, fancy that…). For these families, social and political connections aren't the goal…the goal is their family. In the end, these two couples are infinitely happier than they could ever have imagined, because 1) they are devoted to each other, 2) they have adopted a certain order in their households which creates stability, and 3) they are devoted to their children.

The “Right to Crime”

Leo Tolstoy's writing style has a way to illustrate a depth of knowledge of the human condition and therefore, to explain certain actions. In Volume IV Part I Chapter 4 of War and Peace, he says "The ones who were actually making an effort to follow the federal course of events, and trying to get involved through self-sacrifice and heroic conduct, were the least useful members of society; they looked at things the wrong way round, and everything they did, with the best of intentions, turned out to be useless and absurd…." This particular sentence, coming when it does in the text is powerful.

On the one hand, we've seen the heroic deeds and self-sacrifice of Muscovites and Russian soldiers who are in the thick of the fight. In the text, we've seen men storm burning buildings looking for trapped children, and men coming to the rescue of young Russian women who are being harassed by the French. We've seen nobility lose everything in flames (or consumed by the French). These people are acting out of necessity. As psychologist Phil Zimbardo discusses in his book Lucifer Effect, these individuals are reacting to stimulus according to the moral training they've received throughout their lifetimes. In short, they are acting just like they've been taught to act, and are responding to extreme stimulus accordingly.

On the other hand, we see the less than heroic deeds of individuals who have inflated their own self worth to dedicate themselves to being heroic and to self-sacrifice. These individuals have gotten in the way and even hindered those noted above. These people are acting, far removed from any real stimulus, on their own idealized intellectual fancies.

From this simple quote, I have two observations. First, those that are "in the trenches" get things done and are a real boon to the "cause" (whatever the cause is) because of their knowledge of what is really going on. Along those lines, those that are "armchair quarterbacks" and use their education (rather than hands-on, firsthand experience) to theorize on how to solve a problem, serve to, at the least, get in the way, while at most hinder real progress. In this regard, from a standpoint of strict efficiency, using the idea of subsidiarity (principle stating that a matter ought to be handled by the smallest, lowest, or least centralized authority capable of addressing that matter effectively) to solve social problems makes more sense that using socialism or statism. For certain, many advocates of socialism or statism have good intentions, but inevitably, their lack of true understanding and their over-reliance on their intellectual capabilities, will only hinder any real solution.

Second, the so-called "right to crime" is somewhat alluded to here. In Crime and Punishment, Dostoevsky mentions this "right" to explain how certain "great" men were able to become "great". In short, they were willing to do what others weren't to achieve their own allegedly noble ends: transgress the law (either civil or natural). In fact, the idea goes so far as to infer that the truly great MUST violate the law, usually by spilling blood, to become great. In this quote, we see how utterly false this idea is. On the one hand, the truly great ones (like the truly heroic in Tolstoy's story) are those that do not use their reason to inflate their value to mankind or to make their goals somehow so noble that bloodshed is not an issue. The truly great act nobly based on 1) their moral formation throughout their lives, and 2) on the specific stimuli at hand (along these lines, I am thinking of George Washington, whom George III praised as the greatest man alive for stepping down as President of the US after two terms and near unanimous support among the people—essentially unlimited power due to his popularity). On the other hand, those that rationalize the spilling of blood to further their goals, like Che Guevera, Napoleon, Robespierre, Muhammad, Hitler, Bismarck, and many, many more are not a benefit to humankind, but a hindrance. None of these men added to humanity in any long-lasting and profitable or positive manner. Most have led to more pain, more suffering, and more death as a result of their intellectually driven machinations.

Pride, Honor, and Self-Service

I've reached the Napoleonic invasion of Russia in War and Peace, which begins in Volume III, Part I, Chapter I. Tolstoy begins this by undertaking to briefly explain why this rather pointless waste of human life began in the first place. He glosses the reasons illumined by the historians of his day (Napoleon's megalomania, Alexander's obstinacy, an affront to the Duke of Oldenburg, the failure of the Continental System, and machinations of the English), and then puts in some common sense observations from a non-historian point of view.

What is interesting is that he neglects a certain, perhaps vital cause that actually is illuminated throughout his work: the view that military service was a source of pride, and means of extolling one's own honor, and obtaining status within European society. All one needs to do is to look at the characters of the book. Boris is essentially thrust into the service, hoping to win himself a decent position in society. His service isn't about serving the Tsar or his country, but about his own self-aggrandizement. He realizes that with his mother's seemingly deplorable social and financial status, his only hope is to win glory for himself and then win the hand of a wealthy heiress. Further, what of Anatole, whose father uses his contacts to thrust him into military service in the hopes of whipping him into shape. Further is Nikolay Rostov, whose enlistment in the service was an attempt to win himself a nice position and help his family out.

Now, military service is pointless without conflicts to support the presence of a standing army. Could Boris, or Anatole, or Nikolay hope to gain the honors or promotions without some heroic service in wartime or conflict? Of course not. The fact remains that Tolstoy's work highlights and treats casually the understanding that war is honorable and military service is an ideal career path. Such an attitude makes such slight inconveniences like Alexander's obstinacy, a mere affront to a Duke, and other small things lead to war. In a society that is hell-bent on its men proving themselves in war, war is inevitable.

Of course, this says nothing of the historical fact that Napoleon Bonaparte based his entire political career off of his military successes. A cursory overview of the Napoleonic era reveals that when the going got tough at home, the French went to war. In a classic political maneuver that drew citizens' eyes away from unsavory conditions at home to the patriotic duty to war, Napoleon used his Grand Army to his political advantage: as long as he racked up victories, his support with the French people would be solidified. The Austrian general, von Clausewitz once claimed that war was an extension of policy. One could argue that with Napoleon, war was policy…it needed to be lest he lose popularity and support back home.

War and Peace and Immanent Destruction

I've been reading War and Peace and am so far enjoying it. Unlike Crime and Punishment which is ahistorical in that it doesn't necessarily mention the exact time-period in which it takes place, War and Peace is historical, naming names, events, and movements within Russian society. Further differences include the setting: Crime and Punishment takes place in the Russian underclass/peasantry (presumably after the freeing of the serfs), while War and Peace involves the Russian upper class.

While reading the novel, I can't help a sense of foreboding, of impending destruction setting over the whole thing. How can you possibly connect with the characters, many of them noble, good people, knowing that in a few short years after these events take place, their entire world will be destroyed, violently and horrifically, by the Bolsheviks and their fellow communists? It saddens me to realize how much was lost when the greedy, power hungry, and selfish communists wiped out all of Russian society to put in place their misguided, inherently demeaning philosophy of strife, struggle, control, and jealousy.

What is truly saddening is that, like the French immediately after the meeting of the Estates General in 1789, the Russians were gradually working towards meaningful reform. You can't just impose a constitutional democracy on a people overnight. It has to be worked at, tweaked, and made to fit the socio-political culture of that people. The US Constitution wasn't adopted immediately after the American Revolution; there was the inter-regnum period of the Articles of Confederation, which taught the leaders of the country a great deal about federalism, cooperation, and interdependency. The Tsars and their aristocratic advisors slowly worked to modernize and liberalize their incredibly conservative country bit by bit, and by 1917, great strides had been taken. All those strides were for naught. All the hard work of the liberals (referring to republicans, and free-market entrepreneurs) in Russian government and society was utterly destroyed by the usurpation of the Bolsheviks.

Now, I doubt that the Russians of today, after 70 years of devastating communist rule, could recognize the Russia in War and Peace, which is a sad thing.