War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy: A Middle-Aged Nerd’s Review
Seriously this book is too long. Way too long. Setting that aside, the substance?
Russia’s participation in the Napoleonic Wars, particularly in 1807 and 1812 draws his subjects, members of the Russian aristocracy, together. The novel opens with the middle-aged aristocrats worried about war with the genius French leader, Napoleon. Young men drink, fight, and generally act irresponsibly. Those with higher social standing escape serious consequences; those with lower standing join the military. Some of the aristocracy join the military out of a sense of duty, but most do not. The women focus on social intrigue and finding the right matches for their families. The aristocracy appears to value women for their outward beauty and their ability to draw a crowd; it values men for their wealth.
The Russians, in alliance with Austria, face Napoleon’s French army at Austerlitz in 1807. They believe they will win and have the plan to do so. They also have a Tsar that the Russians just adore—he’s just so wonderful! (But it turns out that he’s no military leader.) The Army fails to follow its plan—as it, and every other army, always does—and the French route the Russians (the Austrians are of no help). During this disaster, one of our aristocratic heroes (it doesn’t really matter who) appears to die a hero’s death.
Russia and France make peace and become allies. No one is entirely sure why, but it happens. Without a war to distract us, Tolstoy wants to make sure (as he has from the beginning) that everyone thinks through every moment of every social interaction. No seriously, he doesn’t want you to forget that. Which makes you think through every moment of reading this section of the novel (as in, “why am I still reading this drivel?”). Oh, and it turns out our hero didn’t really die, but his wife, whom he didn’t like anyway, dies, basically of a broken heart, during child birth. He doesn’t really care much about his son.
Oh, and another of our aristocratic heroes is married to a wife he also doesn’t like, but who is very popular…especially with other men. That doesn’t mean that she cheats on him—she probably does—but he thinks another member of the aristocracy (though a lower, less important member) takes advantage of this. They fight a duel. Everyone lives, though there are some injuries; I forget exactly what. It’s a big scandal and our hero is embarrassed. He begins trying to find the meaning of life.
The young, frivolous girls become young frivolous teenagers. They are confused by their emotions, but because this is the 19th century aristocracy, they are all due to find husbands. This leads to problems because they are frivolous teenagers engaging with adult men (but not sex problems because—the Scarlet Letter notwithstanding—this is a 19th century novel).
Seriously, why am I still reading this book?
Anyway, one of our heroes—the one wounded at Austerlitz—is supposed to marry one of the frivolous teens; it falls apart because they aren’t around each other for about a year (what happens in between doesn’t really matter, except that the teen is a little impulsive). They break off the engagement. That’s bad for the teen’s family because they are slowly going broke and they were hoping a marriage to another, richer aristocrat’s family would shore things up. The other hero is still trying to find the meaning of life, but failing.
Stuff happens. Tolstoy keeps reminding us that in Every. Single. Interaction. Everyone. Thinks. A lot. And. Has. Emotions. But I’m still reading. For some reason.
Ok, some years pass, some stuff happens, and Napoleon invades Russia (now it’s 1812). Well, it’s not really Napoleon, it’s just a bunch of people associated with Napoleon (including Napoleon) and its everyone’s fault and no one’s fault—including definitely not Napoleon (except that it sort of is). Russia will handle this all just fine.
Oops, it just lost the battle at Smolensk. Very bad. Now the Tsar appeals to the aristocrats for more soldiers, and gets some (but not as many as they could give, if they were being realistic). Between our two major heroes, the one who miraculously survived the battle of Austerlitz returns to the army. The other doesn’t, but wonders if he should. The women continue to fret over their families and whether the teens/young women will find suitable matches.
At the battle of Borodino, just outside of Moscow, the non-Army hero (still searching for the meaning of life) wanders around getting in the way of things, is nearly killed (but escapes injury), and is basically a nuisance, though Tolstoy doesn’t call him that. Our other hero is once again heroically injured in battle, and probably dies. Oh, nope. He survives…maybe. This time his injury appears much worse—he remains in critical condition.
The Russians win (?) the battle at Borodino, and Napoleon has basically nothing to do with any of it, because he never really does, except when he does, but he doesn’t. Ever. Sort of. Despite winning the battle, feeling undermanned, the Russian general pulls the Army back, out of Moscow, leaving it to the French. Our meaning of life hero continues to wander around trying to do something. Anything. The French arrest him for being a decent human being.
Our critical condition hero is reunited with his lost teen love, who loves him again because he is critically ill. He’s really touch and go, people. We don’t know whether he will make it. Then he doesn’t. But he has like a four-day period of clarity in which he knows he will die, figures out that love is the meaning of life, loves everyone, but treats them badly because he knows that he’s figured it all out and is about to die, then he dies. Everyone is very sad. Please don’t forget that in Every. Single. Interaction. Everyone. Thinks. A lot. And. Has. Emotions.
Our meaning of life hero remains a prisoner of war and the French force-march him back towards Smolensk as they try to flee Russia. The Russian commanding general knows the French army is disintegrating without him having to do anything, so he keeps trying to keep the generals under him from doing anything. It doesn’t really work, so people die unnecessarily. Remember, the people in charge aren’t really in charge, except when they are, but they still really aren’t. Oh, and he is an underappreciated hero because he recognized all this was happening, but he still didn’t have any control. So why is he a hero again? This point isn’t clear. But he’s underappreciated.
Some of the side characters that you continue to try to remember whenever they show up (except the guy with the lisp, he’s easy to spot), show up again when they attack a destitute French unit. They free our meaning of life hero. He still hasn’t done anything, but he appears closer to finding the meaning of life, particularly after putting his closest friend in the forced march out of his mind as the French execute the poor guy because he’s sick.
The French retreat—as we know from history—is a disaster. But Tolstoy reminds the nerd in us just how bad it was. Seriously, people, don’t invade Russia at the beginning of winter without adequate supplies and a supply line. Hitler would forget this only about 100 years later. Thank goodness.
Ok, so remember that meaning of life hero didn’t like his wife much? Well she died. So now he marries impulsive teen girl who was sad when critical condition hero died, but now she loves him, so that’s good. Meaning of life hero has discovered that none of this except love really matters, so that’s what he cares about now. And he’s totally whipped—so is she, by the way, so that’s cool. And two other mostly important, but not critically important, characters also marry, which also rescues the failing aristocratic family’s wealth. They love each other, too, despite their flaws. Oh, remember critical condition hero’s son, that he didn’t care about? You don’t either, but he’s still around. Whatever. But please don’t forget that in Every. Single. Interaction. Everyone. Thinks. A lot. And. Has. Emotions.
Ok, ok, enough already. But I’m almost finished, so I have to keep going. After 1300+ pages of fatalism, Tolstoy wraps a nice, neat bow on things and everyone lives happily ever after (and stops paying attention to the Napoleonic wars, which actually aren’t over, but who cares?). Seriously. Everyone still alive is good. They have their issues—we all do—but everyone’s happy. Except the old countess. She’s old, sad, and we should pity her.
A couple of side notes: 1) Tolstoy both values women more than he thinks others do, but is still sure they are second class citizens. He leaves us knowing that a woman’s character is more important than her beauty, so that’s nice. 2) There are a lot of peasants in this book. But screw them, they are unimportant. Nonetheless, Tolstoy doesn’t like that military leaders don’t seem to mind the deaths of the soldiers or the populace around the war. War and killing are bad. Don’t forget that. But also don’t worry about the little people; they don’t matter.
I think nearly every writer starts his or her novel trying to make a grander point. At heart, Tolstoy was really trying to use War and Peace to let us know that modern philosophy and science-y stuff are all misguided: we are screwed, have no free will even though we want to believe that we do, and divine providence is more important than modern folks give it (“Him”) credit for. Oh, and some stuff about love.
His problem is that after 1400 pages he thinks he may have been too subtle. So he goes on for another fifty pages with his undergraduate senior thesis in logic on why free will is a farce, and all of these so-called leaders are shams. He knows you will keep reading; you got this far, right? Right. I read it.
The notes on the back cover call this “the greatest novel ever written.” Nope. It has some decent moments, and Tolstoy has some decent observations (along with a lot of bad ones), and to someone like me the military history part of the novel is interesting. But fundamentally—like this review—this book is Way. Too. Long.
