This is a big topic so grab a snack and hot drink and relax when you have a few minutes.
I doubt I have retained any of my few regular readers because I have been on a very long hiatus so allow me to take this opportunity to say hello.
Hello.
There. That was a very concise introduction telling all that needs to be told and nothing more. I just demonstrated (in a very simplistic way, mind you) one of the most powerful ways to make a piece of prose pop and run across the page. A good portion of great fiction is energetic and concise in composition. I call it the Hemingway method because Hemingway was the great innovator and is the single largest influence on modern writing because of it. But how can a huge, twelve hundred page tome be energetic and concise?
I can answer this using two names, Hemingway and Dickens. Ernest Hemingway was simple, to the point, and wasted no ink. He chopped down his writing meticulously until it was zero percent fat and one hundred percent lean, solid, and athletic.
Dickens is, somewhat complicated. I have mixed feelings about Charles Dickens. When I'm in the right mood, I love the atmosphere that is conjured by the Dickens style. It's, well, it's Dickensian. The atmosphere of a Dickens novel is so distinctive that a word was invented to describe it and most of you know what I mean when I say it. He is also a great example of satire done right. I hate satire because I am English and England is a country plagued by satire and -that sloppy, dopey word- "banter" that drives half of the billion panel shows currently on television. Dickens bypasses this intolerance every time I read him. His biting wit is shown in every sentence.
That being said, Dickens was a Victorian. It's unreasonable to deny that his sentences were lengthy, somewhat verbose, and lightly peppered with redundant phrasing. When I'm not in the right mood for Dickens, I get irritated by the flowery Victorian soliloquy and throw the book aside. Was Dickens a great writer? That could be a whole post by itself but I think overall he was a great writer, and he was Charles Bukowski compared to the typical writer of his day, but his Victorian short comings are difficult to dispute.
What does this have to do with War and Peace?
Well, Tolstoy (if I had to stretch myself to draw comparison) is Dickens and Hemingway combined into one bearded Russian genius. I have to preface this by saying I haven't finished the book. I'm on page three hundred currently and I have to say my initial fears have been cast aside.
The prose of War and Peace is vividly descriptive. When you're introduced to a character you are told not too painstakingly how they are dressed, you're shown any distinctive physical features and you're told which previously established name they are related to. The environment around said character is described so that you can see the scene clearly and know which of the many faces in the book are present. The scene is then fleshed out more and more throughout the chapter. Never is the description redundant or needlessly verbose. Hemingway would certainly have chopped it down a few hundred pages worth but in Tolstoy's case it would have taken something away from his writing rather than added vigour. "Where do Hemingway and Dickens actually come into his writing?" I hear you scream brandishing a machete, your bloodshot, hungry eyes glaring. Well, read the first few sentences of the book:
"'Well, prince, Genoa and Lucca are now nothing more than estates taken over by the Buonaparte family. No, I give you fair warning, if you won't say this means war, if you will allow yourself to condone all the ghastly atrocities perpetrated by that Antichrist -yes, that is what I think he is- I shall disown you. You're no friend of mine - not the "faithful slave" you claim to be ... But how are you? How are you keeping? I can see I'm intimidating you. Do sit down and talk to me.'
These words were spoken (in French) one evening in July 1805 by the well known Anna Pavlovna Scherer, maid of honour and confidante of the Empress Maria Fyodrovna, as she welcomed the first person to arrive at her soiree."
Can you see why I compare his style to Dickens? It isn't at all bad -in fact, I found it enticing in the same way that a two pound steak would be- it's just lengthy and grand. Thanks to the convenience over quality mentality that everyone's fallen into, we aren't used to work of such length as War and Peace nor of the calm manner in which the story (being driven by the cast of characters rather than that dirty word "plot") moves which means when you read War and Peace you will have to have a certain level of will power to persevere. That does not mean the story is boring. I have not yet found myself bored with this book, but it is not the point A point B point C template that popular fiction religiously follows. This book is a glimpse at years of life. Life is the key word. There's no predictability here which means you will not know where the story is going next. This isn't something you read, it's something you live, spending time throughout the Napoleonic war right from the beginning with the countless people Tolstoy introduces you to. Some of which you'll hate, some of which you'll love, and some of which are merely acquaintances to you.
"You haven't explained why it's concise!" It's concise because, in spite of it's juicy, decadent prose, the chapters are all fairly short with a few exceptions. For all its girth and mythos, this book doesn't slouch. It does what it needs to do and moves on.
As I said, this book is a two pound steak. It is enticing, delicious, and very intimidating. You can't gobble it up as quickly as possible unless you want it to immediately enter and evacuate your body at a troubling speed, that is if you finish it which you probably wouldn't.
"That sounds problematic. I read for pleasure, not to metaphorically puke all over myself!" Okay, just put down the knife and let me give you my advice on reading this beast. It is certainly worth it. I have a long way to go before I finish it and I'm already being changed by this book. This fascinating, fleshed out microcosm of a novel. So please, stick with me and halt the blood lust for just a while longer.
First of all, you will want a copy that has an index of references that you can consult. By no means will you have to go to the trouble of checking the index every time you're confronted by a term with a reference number beside it, but I think your enjoyment will be enhanced greatly. The average reader at the time of War and Peace's publication will have been someone in the know. The Napoleonic war was no more distant to them as the second world war is to us, only they had a longer collective memory and more of an active investment in modern history. War and Peace is Tolstoy's political philosophy, the backdrop being the biggest, most relevant recent war for maximum impact on the readers, some of whom will have been young children during the war. So there are events and people mentioned we may not know of and that's where and index is useful. If you are anything like me, you won't see this as a chore but as a chance to learn and a satisfying look into an interesting time. After all, if you knew everything or don't want to know anything in the first place you would never have had an interest in reading the book. You won't need to use it all the time, but you will definitely feel its absence. If you already have a copy and it doesn't have an index (most good editions should) there's bound to be a wiki or website dedicated to it. An index is just a more convenient option.
Secondly, you should shop around. Russian is a tricky language and there are many translations of Tolstoy's work. The variations of a single novel's text are all basically the same as far as content but the prose might differ. If you can't find a choice of translations in a shop, I'd suggest looking on Amazon, which lets you have a sneak peak inside the book. Make your choice based on whether it has an index as I mentioned previously, and whether the prose is bland. If it is bland, I can assure you that isn't Tolstoy's fault, you simply have a lackluster translation. That's why I'm learning Russian. I want to become fluent in it so I can read the original text to experience it first hand. The text will probably have lost a little something in translation no matter which version you buy but I am fairly happy with my copy. I have a fairly recent (by which I mean around 2005) critically acclaimed translation by a man named Anthony Briggs published by Penguin Classics. I bought it on a whim when I was shopping with only £10 in my pocket. I spend all of it on the book and went home hungry (I was still living with my mum at the time but had the house to myself for two weeks) so when I say it's a good translation, I mean it's better than food. It might not work for you, though, so do some research first.
Thirdly, the book is focused on characters in and around the aristocracy so associating the characters by relation to one another is probably a good way to go. Tolstoy introduces many of the characters by telling us which previously established character they are related to and in what capacity so this method seems solid. There are many, many characters in this story and the minor characters won't be easy to keep up with by name alone. Dedicating a person to memory based on a major character they are related to has been fool proof for me.
Finally, forget everything I've told you about the book's greatness. I know I've gushed about this book because I'm falling in love with it but you shouldn't be in love with it before reading it and you shouldn't expect it to be the greatest thing you've ever read. If people's opinions on books stood true for everyone Harry Potter would be the greatest thing ever written and Fifty Shades of Grey would render all other porn obsolete. The world would be horrible if mass opinion was fact. Real art would be drab and unapproachable and young adult drivel would be the best thing on offer. But no, that isn't the case. People read simplistic meaningless fluff because it's easily digestible and the 21st century is illiterate. Anyway, my point is, do not let my opinion shape your experience. You wouldn't fall in love with someone before meeting them. Literature -real literature- is the same way. You cross paths with it, get to know it for a brief time, and discover you're in love. Or not. Maybe you just want to be friends with it. That's good too. And if you're only sexually attracted to it, seek help. Don't fuck books.
"Why would I go to all that effort? There are thousands of other books I could read!" What you're doing is not only aggressive, but it's a waste of perfectly good organic fertilizer. Wipe your screen off and read on for just a few seconds longer.
War and Peace is great if: You're a history buff. You're interested in the big life questions. You want a deeper insight into the world affairs of today (history always repeats itself). You want to read a good story that challenges you intellectually. You just want to learn about the Napoleonic wars (I've recently learnt about Empress Catherine, the 18th Brumaire, the battle of Arcola Bridge, and the Duke of Enghien). Oh yeah, the characters and subplots are very well written too.
If you aren't into any of those things, read it anyway. You will take your own meaning and find your own resonance with this book. So what if you read fifty pages and don't like it? Just leave it and move on. Do give it a second chance at some point, though. The importance of reading these big, intimidating, intellectual, near mythical novels can not be overstated. The 21st century is teetering on a knife edge. The balance between technological dependence and the human mind is quickly tipping over to the former and has been with ever increasing momentum for decades. Our attention spans, appreciation of quality, historical awareness, sophisticated literacy, and general willingness to think for a few seconds is rapidly waning to the point where I predict a philosophical and intellectual dark age coming when our current great philosophers and authors die out (it's already happening to the musicians and most of our great writers are getting on a bit). This is the price we pay for inventing surrogate brains (which is what computers and phones have become) and being so heavily sedated by the instant gratification of the internet and the mindless inactivity of watching television. Do we let this go on or do we better ourselves in the hope that we can preserve something precious and invaluable? Reading in your comfort zone will probably yield some good fiction. You aren't an idiot, after all. But you are doing yourself a disservice by not picking up War and Peace and broadening your literary and mental horizons massively. If you are intimidated by War and Peace, all that means is you aren't an intellectual Superman. It's a book. Just jump in and read.
In conclusion. Hemingway's writing is a boxer. Athletic, lean, and mean. Dickens' writing is a decadent robin hood figure. A little portly, but sharp, alert, and energetic. Tolstoy's writing is a big beefy Russian body builder. This is becoming homo erotic. I should take my leave before I combust.
No comments:
Post a Comment