This year, I set a lofty goal to read 2 books per week, and at this point I am far behind, as my Goodreads Challenge constantly reminds me. I decided that next year, instead of aiming so high, I was going to devote my time to some epics that have long been gathering dust on my TBR shelf. I definitely want to read Gone with the Wind, I have a few Micheners, and Infinite Jest has been staring me down for several years. I may even be so ambitious as to crack Dickens or Dumas. Many of these are also on this list. But I don’t want to feel daunted by these hefty tomes, so I hope to approach them the same way I did War and Peace a few years ago. The following essay demonstrates how I made reading Tolstoy’s great novel an enjoyable experience:
A Month with Leo (originally written October 2009)
I’m not sure what motivated me to do it. Bragging rights. Fulfilling a lifetime goal just shy of my 30th birthday. A feeling of superiority. Achieving the literary Everest. Whatever it was, I decided to embark on the daunting task of reading the ever intimidating classic, War and Peace. This endeavor turned into a project that consumed my life for a full month and left me with an incredible sense of satisfaction.
My constant companions for one month
One of the main reasons I had such an enjoyable experience was choosing the right translation. I used the Penguin Classic translated by Rosemary Edmunds, which was surprisingly accessible and straightforward. Having looked at a few other copies, this edition was not burdened with too many footnotes or excessive French which would have detracted from the flow and overall plot. It was translated in a cohesive and approachable manner.
Another reason I enjoyed this accomplishment so much was because of my approach. I tackled it much like I would have done in college, taking notes in separate notebook summarizing the plot and addressing the multitude of characters in an organized fashion. It was my own handy Cliffs Notes that I customized as I went along. Some may think that attention to detail a bit excessive, but my obsessive compulsive tendencies were in full force (as my fanatical search for a glue stick at work would prove). Of course, when reading a historical novel, I have the proclivity for researching aspects of the actual event to better understand my subject and to separate fact from fiction. So using Wikipedia as a jumping off point, I collected an array of maps, images, family trees, and insight to historical figures to include along with my notes. As I progressed in the novel and my involvement and curiosity expanded, so did my journal and my sense of possessiveness.
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One of the main advantages to this method was its aid in keeping the countless characters straight. There are first and last names, titles, and formal and informal names that are often interchanged. There are fictional characters and historical figures. There are multiple generations within families and characters with the same names. It seemed necessary to identify lineages and significances of the extensive cast of characters. I was not about to let any confusion hamper my progress and frustrate my neuroticisms.
In addition to the myriad of characters, another challenge was the book’s sheer size. The Penguin edition is 1,444 pages, and not easy on the back. I carried this heavy tome with me everywhere, especially during my daily 2 hour round trip train commute, but its bulk was often impeding. It did attract attention, and I found myself answering to several inquiries from people curious to know about the massive volume I was always carrying. It sparked several interesting discussions with colleagues, friends and strangers alike. As I progressed, my ego
swelled and my sense of superiority heightened as my bookmark got closer and closer to the back cover and people who were following my progress commended me – so my motives were not entirely pure.
I have to admit, I was having fun. Not only did I enjoy the attention I received, I loved developing my journal. I spent hours researching historical events and figures, investigating Tolstoy, printing supplemental material, and making sure each journal entry was a comprehensive, thoughtful and accurate summary. My methods perplexed many people, especially those who don’t know me well enough to KNOW, that if I was going to tackle something this time consuming and intimidating, I was going to do it right, namely, MY WAY.
What surprised me most was that I actually ENJOYED what I was reading. My recent foray into Russian history was one contributing factor in my appreciation of this story. More importantly, the characters were so authentic and fallible and the plot was engaging. Sometimes the battle scenes were mildly tedious, but the results from these military campaigns affected every character. The militaristic, social, and even Masonic themes had romantic undertones that, while occasionally sentimental, weren’t overly schmaltzy, although those Russians were an emotional and affectionate bunch, constantly weeping and kissing.
I had the most fun with the social aspects, the love affairs and the balls, the family units and the camaraderie. I adored Pierre in his humanity, got frustrated with Natasha for her immaturity, respected Marie for her morality, and felt so many other emotions pertaining to the immense cast of characters. When I visualized Tolstoy with his unsmiling bearded countenance and piercing eyes, I did not think him capable of writing with such tenderness and sentiment. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised with his grasp of human nature and his range of expression.
My greatest struggles were Tolstoy’s digressions from plot to reflect on the nature of war and power, history and fate, most notably in the second epilogue. After consuming the first epilogue and finding myself really pleased with the happy ending, I was tormented by the final pages. I was so close to the end, yet had to slough through Tolstoy’s philosophical ramblings while chomping at the bit to just be finished with the thing. I had shut myself in the den and curled up on my papasan chair, prepared to tackle the last thirty pages with infuriating impatience. With great determination, I reached page 1,444 and heaving a heaving an enormous sigh, I wrote the final summary in my journal followed by a triumphant FIN!
And just like that it was over. My month long assault had come to an abrupt, yet highly anticipated conclusion. My pride was swelling, my relief was overwhelming and yet I felt a sense
of loss. When I placed the book on my shelf, it was like saying goodbye to an old friend. I was excited to get back to reading “recreationally” again and not lugging the 2.1 pound beast around with me, but my companion was resigned to sit on the shelf without distinction among the hundreds of other books. The fact that it had moved from the “to be read shelf” to the “already read” portion of my library was in itself a triumph, and the two and a half inch spine looking out at me was a testament to my accomplishment.
Images courtesy of
http://napoleonistyka.atspace.com/Invasion_of_Russia_1812.htm and
wikipedia.org.
JulzReads 
Reading Epics (War and Peace)
This year, I set a lofty goal to read 2 books per week, and at this point I am far behind, as my Goodreads Challenge constantly reminds me. I decided that next year, instead of aiming so high, I was going to devote my time to some epics that have long been gathering dust on my TBR shelf. I definitely want to read Gone with the Wind, I have a few Micheners, and Infinite Jest has been staring me down for several years. I may even be so ambitious as to crack Dickens or Dumas. Many of these are also on this list. But I don’t want to feel daunted by these hefty tomes, so I hope to approach them the same way I did War and Peace a few years ago. The following essay demonstrates how I made reading Tolstoy’s great novel an enjoyable experience:
A Month with Leo (originally written October 2009)
I’m not sure what motivated me to do it. Bragging rights. Fulfilling a lifetime goal just shy of my 30th birthday. A feeling of superiority. Achieving the literary Everest. Whatever it was, I decided to embark on the daunting task of reading the ever intimidating classic, War and Peace. This endeavor turned into a project that consumed my life for a full month and left me with an incredible sense of satisfaction.
My constant companions for one month
One of the main reasons I had such an enjoyable experience was choosing the right translation. I used the Penguin Classic translated by Rosemary Edmunds, which was surprisingly accessible and straightforward. Having looked at a few other copies, this edition was not burdened with too many footnotes or excessive French which would have detracted from the flow and overall plot. It was translated in a cohesive and approachable manner.
Another reason I enjoyed this accomplishment so much was because of my approach. I tackled it much like I would have done in college, taking notes in separate notebook summarizing the plot and addressing the multitude of characters in an organized fashion. It was my own handy Cliffs Notes that I customized as I went along. Some may think that attention to detail a bit excessive, but my obsessive compulsive tendencies were in full force (as my fanatical search for a glue stick at work would prove). Of course, when reading a historical novel, I have the proclivity for researching aspects of the actual event to better understand my subject and to separate fact from fiction. So using Wikipedia as a jumping off point, I collected an array of maps, images, family trees, and insight to historical figures to include along with my notes. As I progressed in the novel and my involvement and curiosity expanded, so did my journal and my sense of possessiveness.
This slideshow requires JavaScript.
One of the main advantages to this method was its aid in keeping the countless characters straight. There are first and last names, titles, and formal and informal names that are often interchanged. There are fictional characters and historical figures. There are multiple generations within families and characters with the same names. It seemed necessary to identify lineages and significances of the extensive cast of characters. I was not about to let any confusion hamper my progress and frustrate my neuroticisms.
In addition to the myriad of characters, another challenge was the book’s sheer size. The Penguin edition is 1,444 pages, and not easy on the back. I carried this heavy tome with me everywhere, especially during my daily 2 hour round trip train commute, but its bulk was often impeding. It did attract attention, and I found myself answering to several inquiries from people curious to know about the massive volume I was always carrying. It sparked several interesting discussions with colleagues, friends and strangers alike. As I progressed, my ego
swelled and my sense of superiority heightened as my bookmark got closer and closer to the back cover and people who were following my progress commended me – so my motives were not entirely pure.
I have to admit, I was having fun. Not only did I enjoy the attention I received, I loved developing my journal. I spent hours researching historical events and figures, investigating Tolstoy, printing supplemental material, and making sure each journal entry was a comprehensive, thoughtful and accurate summary. My methods perplexed many people, especially those who don’t know me well enough to KNOW, that if I was going to tackle something this time consuming and intimidating, I was going to do it right, namely, MY WAY.
What surprised me most was that I actually ENJOYED what I was reading. My recent foray into Russian history was one contributing factor in my appreciation of this story. More importantly, the characters were so authentic and fallible and the plot was engaging. Sometimes the battle scenes were mildly tedious, but the results from these military campaigns affected every character. The militaristic, social, and even Masonic themes had romantic undertones that, while occasionally sentimental, weren’t overly schmaltzy, although those Russians were an emotional and affectionate bunch, constantly weeping and kissing.
I had the most fun with the social aspects, the love affairs and the balls, the family units and the camaraderie. I adored Pierre in his humanity, got frustrated with Natasha for her immaturity, respected Marie for her morality, and felt so many other emotions pertaining to the immense cast of characters. When I visualized Tolstoy with his unsmiling bearded countenance and piercing eyes, I did not think him capable of writing with such tenderness and sentiment. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised with his grasp of human nature and his range of expression.
My greatest struggles were Tolstoy’s digressions from plot to reflect on the nature of war and power, history and fate, most notably in the second epilogue. After consuming the first epilogue and finding myself really pleased with the happy ending, I was tormented by the final pages. I was so close to the end, yet had to slough through Tolstoy’s philosophical ramblings while chomping at the bit to just be finished with the thing. I had shut myself in the den and curled up on my papasan chair, prepared to tackle the last thirty pages with infuriating impatience. With great determination, I reached page 1,444 and heaving a heaving an enormous sigh, I wrote the final summary in my journal followed by a triumphant FIN!
And just like that it was over. My month long assault had come to an abrupt, yet highly anticipated conclusion. My pride was swelling, my relief was overwhelming and yet I felt a sense
of loss. When I placed the book on my shelf, it was like saying goodbye to an old friend. I was excited to get back to reading “recreationally” again and not lugging the 2.1 pound beast around with me, but my companion was resigned to sit on the shelf without distinction among the hundreds of other books. The fact that it had moved from the “to be read shelf” to the “already read” portion of my library was in itself a triumph, and the two and a half inch spine looking out at me was a testament to my accomplishment.
Images courtesy of
http://napoleonistyka.atspace.com/Invasion_of_Russia_1812.htm and
wikipedia.org.
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Posted in Opinion/Commentary
Tagged leo tolstoy, tolstoy, war and peace