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.

Crime and Punishment

I picked up Crime and Punishment sometime last week. To give a little back story, I've never read it, which is unfortunate, really. I picked it up on a whim: Borders at our mall was going out of business, and so had books on super-sale. The wife told me to pick up some classics on the way home (dumb on her part really…I am somewhat of a bibliophile, and to be give the vague command to "pick up some classics" was like giving me a blank check…). So in the midst of the said shopping spree, I checked out the back of a paperback edition of Crime and Punishment. I was intrigued by the description, and even more intrigued by the brief biography of Dostoevsky contained in the opening page. I bought it.

At first, it was slow, and I found it easy to put down and get distracted. But as the story progressed, and we actually met more characters, I found myself borderline obsessed with the story. There were several aspects that sucked me in. The first was the supposed motive for the murder, and the differentiation between "everyman" and the "superman". What sucked me in the most, however, was the cat and mouse game between the inspector and Raskolnikov. It was so masterfully done that I really couldn't tell if the inspector really knew that Raskolonikov was guilty and was trying to draw him out, or if the inspector was genuinely clueless. Further, the differing aspects of Raskolnikov's character (his genuine heartfelt generosity, his internal dialogues about his personal charity) sucked me in—although I can't say that I genuinely liked him as a person. In addition, the depth of characters line Sonia, Katerina Ivonovna, Pyotr Petrovich provided further stimulus. As the climax drew near, Dostoesky artfully maintains a shroud over the conclusion, leading one to wonder about how the conflict will be resolved, but at the same time, leaving open every possibility. In fact, when the resolution does come, it's not a surprise, but it certainly isn't a forgone conclusion.

Some different themes interested me in the work, and I'll comment on them separately:

1. The idea of love in the story
   
2. The true hero of the tale
   
3. The concept of the "superman" and the "right to crime"
   
4. Raskolnikov's motive and today's Occupy Movement (and associated incidents)

Socialism vs Fascism, Part II

From what I've said previously, it makes total sense for liberals in America to assign the greatest slur they can think of (fascists/Nazis) to conservatives, while conservatives assign the greatest slur they can think of to liberals (Communists/socialists).  The problem is, at least with the liberals' use of fascism and Nazism, they fail to look deeper at both fascism (which they abhor) and socialism (which they wish to emulate).


Socialism, it is widely thought, was the brain-child of the theories of Robert Owen.  Owen (1771-1858) used his extraordinary skill in managing and overseeing to create a successful textile mill at New Lanarck. He was able to put several of his progressive ideas into practice at New Lanarck, and these successes gave him the opportunity to put his more radical, socialist theories into practice, most notably at New Harmony in Indiana.  Owen's socialism reduced the population into small "societies" of about 500-3000 people, and removed private property and private ownership: all that mattered was the success of the "society".  All people shared everything, and each would receive according to their need.  Everyone would exist in relative equality in these self-contained societies, which would be overseen by a capable, qualified and adept overseer.  Groups of societies would be linked together, and those groups would be linked together, until every society was part of a globally integrated, non-competitive socialist utopia.  In classical socialism, the goal is the economic survival/success of each individual, not competitive "collective".  Due to the non-competitive nature, the idea of nationalism, or pride in one's collective, or heritage, or individuality is supposed to be non-existent.  Any sort of differentiation between individuals would create a competitive atmosphere, which would undermine the socialist utopia.  Thus, true socialists are afraid of nationalism, or "American exceptionalism", so much so that the would label anyone who demonstrates any sort of pride in their country as "fascists" thought to invoke the totalitarian regime of Hitler.


Fascism is first seen in Mussolini's Italy.  Mussolini's fascism was centered around his authority as a dictator, and the uber-nationalism that accompanied Italy's militarism.  For Mussolini's Italy, everything revolved around the good of the State.  So important was the State's influence on everyday life, that a common joke was that while everything was going to hell-in-a-handbasket, at least the (state-run) trains ran on time.  Over time, he dramatically increased state control over the private sector, eventually settling on a system called corporatism, which melded a centralized economic plan with privately run businesses.  Mussolini was the first, but not the last.  Adolf Hitler adopted the fascist idea with his National Socialists is Germany.  For the Nazi party, the good of the state was the goal, and while Mussolini never really went full socialist, Hitler did.  However, we don't really hear about Hitler's love-affair with socialism.  Instead we are faced with his great nationalism, his Thousand Year Reich, and the "Fatherland". 

The fact is, that all fascists used socialism as their economic policy to some extent.  The goal of the fascist is the success of the state...thus, socialism, with its goal of economic "success" of the society is a good match. Fascists will, because of their insistence on the importance of the state over the importance of the individual, adopt socialist policies. For this reason, it is rather ironic that American liberals (who want state control of the economy, and who believe in the importance of the state over the importance of the individual) call American conservatives (who are proud of the United States and believe in the importance of the individual over the importance of the state) "fascists".

Dracula, revisited

I was just breezing through Creative Minority Report and I came across the phrase "he gave vampires souls".  It brought me back to an issue I have with Stoker's work and how he dealt with vampires and souls.

When vampire-Lucy was waylay-ed by Professor Van Helsing and his partners, Van Helsing imparts on Arthur the importance of what need to happen: by slaying the vampire-Lucy, Lucy's soul is free to enter into Heaven.  This gives a rather interesting perspective on the soul, salvation, damnation, and the link between the soul and body.

Catholic teaching on the soul and the body is such that both are intrinsically linked: the body is THE vessel for the soul, and during the resurrection, the soul will be reunited with the body (not a different one, but a glorified old one).  When the body dies, the soul is freed from this "mortal coil" and will be separated from it.

This means, in relation to vampire-myth, that when the body dies (and before it becomes a vampire) the soul is released and thus the soul is not trapped by the vampire's actions.  So then, it would appear that vampire-Lucy wouldn't really have been Lucy at all, but a demon using Lucy's body, or something to that effect, and Lucy's soul would have entered Heaven already.  But that isn't what Stoker presents.


Stoker actually presents two DIFFERENT perspectives in his work.  Lucy's soul is in jeopardy, as if it is trapped in the body while the body continues its evil, God-forsaken actions of feeding off others.  Killing the body will release Lucy's soul to enter into heaven.  The fate of Lucy's soul (whether it will be damned or saved) is unrelated to the actions of the vampire, it appears.

HOWEVER, both Lucy and Dracula know who they are.  Lucy recognizes her beloved, and with evil depravity presents herself in a lustful manner to seduce him in order to prey upon his blood and win him over to her (and possibly be his master, as Dracula is hers).  Likewise, Dracula is fully aware of his existence, who he is, what his purpose is, and what his plan is.  He recounts his history, what he's done, etc.

The two perspectives are mutually exclusive.  Lucy's soul cannot be trapped against its will by vampire-Lucy AND vampire-Lucy know who she is and act accordingly (although in an utterly depraved manner).  Either the vampire is Lucy or it is not.