War and Peace

This post is intended for those that haven’t read War and Peace. If you have read it, you may be more interested in this list of my favorite details from the book.

I just finished War and Peace, and it is, quite simply, the best book I’ve ever read—the story, the writing, the images, the characters, everything. Here’s why:

  1. It’s very readable. Make sure to get the translation by husband-wife team Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. The language is beautiful and flows. Yes, the book is long, but it progresses steadily. You won’t find yourself mired in boring language or parts of the story that drag endlessly.

  2. The book actually has three different layers: war, peace, and philosophy. There are war scenes, as you’d expect. Then, there’s peace. Or, more specifically, the everyday experiences of a few wealthy, aristocratic Russian families—the pursuit (and loss) of wealth, love, power, and respect; envy, jealousy, kindness, forgiveness, and so on. And then, as the book progresses, there’s philosophy. Tolstoy explores philosophical questions about history. The question being: What force moves people? Why do events happen? Specifically, why did the events of 1812—Napoleon’s invasion of Russia—occur and unfold as they did? Do powerful people cause events to happen, or are they swept along, like everyone else, in the powerful waves of those events, which are caused by some other force?

  3. Tolstoy creates incredible characters. There’s a saying: “If the world could write itself, it would write like Tolstoy.” I was astonished by the economy and ease with which Tolstoy could create a rich character. It’s like magic. Within a page of meeting Princess Marya, I felt like I had met not just a real person but someone with nuance, depth, a rich inner life. And this happened over and over again. I felt I lived a life with the main characters. I felt that I knew them as real people, with desires, fears, values, strengths, and faults.

  4. Even more incredible is Tolstoy’s ability to craft a story in a room. While Tolstoy’s ability to create rich characters is amazing and unsurpassed, it’s still a matter of degree. In other words, he does what other writers do; he just does it far, far better. What I felt was truly unique—something I’d never experienced in all my readings to date—was how Tolstoy brings a room to life. In the “peace” portions of the book, a lot happens in rooms, such as salons (the gathering spaces for the aristocratic elite in the homes of particular pillars of society), balls, and, in one particularly vivid and memorable scene, an opera. How Tolstoy orchestrates these scenes is breathtaking, almost mathematical in its precision. You don’t just see the room and the people; you know exactly where everyone is, and how they’re moving. You know what they’re thinking, what they want to achieve in that room, and what they want to do next. It’s not just three dimensional but rather six dimensional, adding in not only the dimension of movement through time and space of every body in that room but also the dimension of each characters’ thoughts and desires.

  5. The battle scenes are breathtaking. Particularly memorable is the Battle of Austerlitz, when a key character, Nikolai Rostov, has to travel from one side of the battlefield to the other to deliver an important message to the commander in chief. This allows Tolstoy to describe the full battle scene, and I saw it as a slow motion visual of two massive forces colliding. It’s poetic—beautiful and horrific at the same time.

  6. They’re also realistic. A key theme throughout the war portion of the book is that battles and wars unfold very differently than people, particularly leaders, intend. Tolstoy captures the confusion of war (and apparently soldiers have validated his renditions as accurate).

  7. Military strategy plays a prominent role. A key element of the book is Tolstoy’s portrayal of Mikhail Kutuzov, the Russian general that was commander in chief of the Russian military during Napoleon’s invasion. Tolstoy depicts Kutuzov as a hero, certainly for the end achieved (saving Russia) but also the means (wisdom). Kutuzov was wise because he understood the nature of men, battles, and war. Napoleon did not. A very hard decision in the book was the decision to give up Moscow to Napoleon. Everyone—Kutuzov’s senior commanders and the emperor, Alexander—opposed the decision. Yet, Kutuzov’s argument was that it was preferable to lose Moscow while saving the army rather than losing both. How Kutuzov does this—retreating multiple times, from Borodino, from Moscow, so that the natural course of events would decimate Napoleon’s army—is described in vivid, memorable detail.

  8. Death and life interplay beautifully. There’s literal death and life, and there’s also death and rebirth of souls, people’s spirits. I can’t describe it without giving away key elements.

  9. The humanity is achingly beautiful. There are multiple scenes in which important characters have to choose between selfish goals and dramatic kindness, and the way the scenes and decisions unfold is beautiful. There are particular characters that, while imperfect, have a strong moral character that carries them through difficult situations.

  10. The philosopher Isaiah Berlin’s essay about War and Peace, “The Hedgehog and the Fox,” is worth reading, too. I actually decided to read War and Peace after learning about and reading Berlin’s beautiful essay about Tolstoy and the book. The essay sets up a playful construct: the hedgehog knows one thing and the fox knows many things. Some famous writers are hedgehogs, and some are foxes. Tolstoy was a fox that wanted to be a hedgehog. He was searching for a fundamental truth about history, but he didn’t find it. In fact, his gift was observing and detailing the small things, the things he claimed didn’t matter. This was the sad fate of Tolstoy. The essay is a work of art worth appreciating on its own.

I very much recommend worth reading War and Peace. The experience for me was similar to how I felt after finishing One Hundred Years of Solitude. I felt I had been given the gift of being allowed to trade a small portion of my life to live another lifetime.