The Kreutzer Sonata

OH BOY, DO I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT THIS BOOK. Most especially, about the choice to include it in a series titled Great Loves. Despite the fact that the narrator begins his tale with a rant on how awful love is -- I would argue that there is very little love on display in this book. Rather, a great deal of possessiveness, and also the stifling nature of heteronormativity.

Despite all that (which did frequently get on my nerves), this is still Tolstoy, so it's still somehow fascinating and compelling even as I often wanted to hold the main character's face under water. (And yes, it seems clear that he is the character Tolstoy identifies with.) I was drawn along, rooting for the wife and for the man to gain any inkling of his show more inherent ass-hattedness, even though it is clear from the very beginning of his tale that neither will happen.

A compulsive but frustrating but train-wrecky NOT-A-LOVE-STORY. show less

Praised by many as Tolstoy's best short story—or novella, really—I'm shocked that I've never read this until now, if only for the reason that Tolstoy's best inevitably means one of the best novellas ever written. And The Kreutzer Sonata is definitely that; it's also one of the beginning texts of existentialist literature, and I can imagine Camus and even Proust reading this with relish.

In a mere hundred or so pages, Tolstoy attacks everything: the oppressive system of gender inequality; the class system; capitalism, money, and the ignorance in which children are reared; marriage; religion; medicine; the legal system—in short, every subject under the sun is scrutinized and unashamedly bashed to pieces here, in a novella that show more renders the act of confession as the only means of redemption in a world of lost faith, principles, and morals, a motif that pairs this rather well with Camus's La chute, whose own narrator seems oddly reminiscent at times with Tolstoy's in Kreutzer.

One can see why this was banned and why there was such a scandal when Tolstoy published this in 1889, and many of its subjects and concerns are still sadly relevant today. show less

3,5

For the sake of his pleasure he makes women, who ought to be his helpmates in the progress of humanity towards truth and goodness, into his enemies.

Almost a satirical discussion of courtship and marriage. I guess if the sexes weren’t forced into certain roles by society, none of this killing would have happened?

Not only was marriage not happiness, it was something exceedingly painful and distressing. But, like everyone else, I refused to admit this to myself and I hid it not only from others, but also from myself.

Well, what a strange little book this turned out to be from the master.

Is it a good read? Yes, it is. Structured around a series of short chapters and incidents, it's just right for the shot-away modern attention span (surely, the novella is the perfect form for our age?) You know what's coming, almost from the outset, because the protagonist, Troukhatchevsky, tells you so. And yet, by delaying the crucial moment and delaying it, Tolstoy builds unbearable tension. In other words, the story telling is as masterful as you would expect, as are the characterisation and fine detailing.

The obsessive nature of the protagonist and the bizarre philosophy to which he adheres put me in mind of Raskolnikov. Well, it was after all the century of show more grand ideas, culminating not long after in that Republic of Ideas, the USSR. These peculiarities made Troukhatchevsky a less tragic, less sympathetic figure than otherwise he might have been. Even the counter-philosophies were rather difficult to take, from a 21st Century perspective. The theme of jealousy and its un-reason, on the other hand, remain powerfully and universally relevant, all the more so when developed by one of the great writers. show less

Tolstoy, once again, speaking truth to power: men and women both are degraded, trapped and victimised by the social and cultural restraints put on women which prevent them from becoming, behaving, and being seen as human beings, and everything we "prove" with art and science to elevate ourselves as the most superior of animals is really just denial of the likelihood that we are the most slovenly and vicious animals of them all. If Tolstoy sounds pissed, I think it is only because he does wish for greater equality, mutual respect, and freedom to develop as whole beings, and recognises we're never going to get there until we drop the charades, and admit how screwed up we really are and have been; over a hundred years after Tolstoy and our show more denials, delusions, rationalisations and justifications are stronger (and more convoluted) than ever, liberation from the various injustices and oppressions we inflict upon each other and ourselves is still not on the horizon. The frustration expressed in The Kreutzer Sonata is, to this reader at least, perfectly understandable and relevant to this day. show less

The Kreutzer Sonata is one of Tolstoy’s later works and revolves around his moral beliefs about lust, love, and marriage. To the point: a conversation takes place on a train between passengers about love and marriage. One passenger, Pozdnyshev, becomes agitated and says (I paraphrase), love and marriage are a bunch of crap. He then recounts in detail how and why he killed his wife in a jealous fit.

This is Tolstoy, so the story is well-crafted and all the other key words and catch phrases that describe excellent writing. What I found interesting is that Pozdnyshev blames society’s loose morals for setting him up for failure in his marriage. As a young man he partied. He slept around, drank, etc. He goes on to say his former purely show more pleasure driven relations with women, which for the most part were secretly accepted by society if not openly condoned, ruined his relationship with his wife.

"Yes, my relations with women were lost forever. Pure relations with women, from that time forward, I could no longer have. I had become what is called a voluptuary; and to be a voluptuary is a physical condition like the condition of a victim of the morphine habit, of a drunkard, and of a smoker.
Just as the victim of the morphine habit, the drunkard, the smoker, is no longer a normal man, so the man who has known several women for his pleasure is no longer normal. He is abnormal forever. He is a voluptuary. Just as the drunkard and the victim of the morphine habit may be recognized by their face and manner, so we may recognize a voluptuary. He may repress himself and struggle, but nevermore will he enjoy simple, pure, and fraternal relations toward woman. By his way of glancing at a young woman one may at once recognize a voluptuary; and I became a voluptuary, and I have remained one."

I find the idea interesting in light of today’s obsession with sexuality and porn. The book is an insight into Victorian morality (Can it be Victorian if it’s Russian?,) and it can actually be read as an early feminist text.

Is it worth reading? If you’re interested in the aforementioned topics and want a quick Russian literature read, yes. If you want action and intrigue and don’t care what people thought about sex, love, and marriage in the olden days, no. show less

A far cry in length from War & Peace but nonetheless this little novella packs quite the punch. On a train journey, passengers begin to gossip about a story they’ve heard of a man killing his wife. Much to their horror, he turns out to be in their very compartment and begins to tell his tale.

The novel is told in very short chapters and, for added irony, I listened to this as an audio book read by a husband and wife team on Librivox.org.

Tolstoy uses the novel to convey his strong opinions on immorality and marriage. It was his firm conviction that society’s tolerance of profligate male youth was wrong, particularly as it hypocritically frowned on any woman who dared to take lovers. He felt that women were victims of this immorality show more both before marriage and then within it.

The narrator tells of how his crime has led him to a clear view of what

he now realises was the deplorable behaviour of his youth. Once married, his immorality is barely checked and his relationship with his wife sours over the years. Finally, he is consumed with jealousy over what he suspects is an affair she is having with a violinist. The eponymous Sonata is a piece of music they make together. In a fit of rage, he kills her.

There are no real spoilers here. The narrator is pretty up front and honest from the start and the story is easy to follow as the tension builds to the inevitable crime. I liked the vehicle that Tolstoy uses for this bold attack on immorality and, as should be the case with a classic, there is much here that is still relevant today. This would make an excellent read for a book club because it is short, engaging and raises plenty of questions worth discussing. show less