A SAMPLE OF SOME WORK

Monday, April 24, 2023

Tolstoy's War & Peace - The Heraclitean Principle

 



                                                                   





I received some good news, today. So, I am publishing this essay here on my blog as a gift to my regular readers. Any one who is looking at what is going on in the world today will be aware of the war in Ukraine, and probably just like you it has had a deep impact on my perspective of  the current scene. I was particularly troubled by what has been happening in Russia also, and so in an attempt to come to some kind of further historical perspective on recent events, I decided, finally, to read Tolstoy's celebrated novel War and Peace. I am so glad I did.

Those of you familiar with my writing will be aware of my fascination for Heraclitus, I have written two books already dedicated to him - the collection of poems Sker set in my hometown of Skerries here in north county Dublin - and More Micks than Dicks my first published work in prose and which satirizes an experience I had presenting an essay on Beckett at an international Beckett conference. 

Anyway, this essay is taken from my third book dedicated to Heraclitus - The Heraclitean Principal- which is a collection of short stories, articles, reviews, translations, poem cycles etc... So, without any further ado, here is my meditation on Tolstoy and Heraclitus, the sage of Ephesus. Where would you see the likes of it!

Enjoy, and thank you for following my 'blog'...   


 

Tolstoy’s War and Peace

and

The Heraclitean Principle

 

War is the father of all and king of all, and some he shows

as gods, others as humans; some he makes slaves of, others free.”

Fragment 82. Heraclitus

 

The purpose of the following article is to explore the theme of deception in Leo Tolstoy’s epic novel War and Peace and with a very particular interest in the events described in the first three books following the two characters Prince Andrew Bolkónski and Nicolas Rostóv exploring the motifs of fog, centaur, drunk and manure which are all described quite vividly in chapters 14- 19 of Book 3 where the author describes some of the events which happen at the Battle of Austerlitz. I will also be evoking the ancient figure of Heraclitus in relation to the title of the novel and how it plays into the whole Heraclitean notion of dichotomy and indeed how the two key scenes involving both Prince Andrew and Rostov, in the books aforementioned, bolster the Heraclitean principal and indeed how the four motifs support such a hypothesis. Tolstoy, after first fighting in the Crimea War ( 1853-1856) was to famously become a pacifist in later years, and one of the main causes for such an abrupt change in his perspective was his reading of philosophers such as Arthur Schopenhauer ( 1788-1860) who advocated a complete break with the sensual life if one wanted to attain any kind of peace and contentment. Tolstoy was to completely embrace this idea which Schopenhauer himself was to acknowledge first came from Heraclitus, even before Plato. Nietzsche and later Heidegger were later to take up the case from Schopenhauer, in acknowledging that Heraclitus, known as ‘the Obscure’, was the King of Philosophers, a king who also believed that war was an inevitable part of life.

 But before I begin, I would really like to emphasize how the current war in Ukraine provoked this reading, I had never read Tolstoy before and, like so many people around the world I would imagine, after following the war in articles in newspapers and through reports on the media, I really wanted to try to understand better the history of these two peoples and the history of Russia, in particular, and so it seemed that the time was finally ripe to take the great tome down off of the shelf and to give it a good dusting, as they say, and actually, for once, read the damn thing and, to my absolute surprise, I found myself totally and utterly captivated by the text. [1] 

To begin, I am not an expert on Russian literature, nor am I a specialist on Leo Tolstoy, but  like Ezra Pound suggests[2], I rather focused my rather limited attention on some of the French writers of the 19th century, in particular Baudelaire[3], and the Irish modernist writers of the 20th century, in particular Beckett and Joyce. So where is the connection here? In a word – Heraclitus. I must admit to having quite a particular obsession for ‘the Sage of Ephesus’, as he is also know as, or ‘the Obscure’, as he is otherwise called. I first presented a paper on Beckett’s lifelong obsession with Heraclitus at a conference on Beckett in University College Dublin, James Joyce’s alma mater, in 2013[4] an experience which I later fictionalized in a short hybrid novella More Micks than Dicks [5]. So, apart from the connection with Heraclitus, Tolstoy was completely new territory for me.  

 

*

 

“There is no difference, says Bruno, between the smallest possible

chord and the smallest possible arc, no difference between the

infinite circle and the straight line. The maxima and the minima

of particular contraries are one and indifferent. Minimal heat equals

minimal cold. Consequently transmutations are circular.”[6]

 

Even though Beckett is referencing Giordano Bruno in the above quote, he could just as easily be referring to Heraclitus who is predominantly known as the thinker of duality; ‘cold things grow hot, a hot thing cold, a moist thing withers, a parched thing is wetted.’[7] ( fragment 126). Anyone who has swum in intensely cold water, such as the Irish Sea, will be able to bear testimony to the truth of the above fragment, how when intense cold ( holding ice) can almost burn with the cold. Opposites are intrinsic. Nietzsche comments on this apparent notion of dualism which, according to him, is to profoundly misunderstand, as Heraclitus, according to Nietzsche, has far more to do with Parmenides in that there can indeed be no dualities as everything is contained in the One; as for Heraclitus nothing ‘is’ as everything is but becoming- eternal flux. In the context of war and justice and truth, this point is particularly telling, as indeed Tolstoy knew.

 

“Becoming is an injustice and is atoned to be Passing Away. But how

can that which is encumbered by qualities, Becoming, arise from the

qualityless? And how might a world of such eternal lawfulness in its

entirety be a world full of particular injustice? On the contrary, the course

of all things, of every individual is predestined and not viable by human

defiance. Justice shows itself in this lawfulness. But if Becoming and

Passing Away are the effects of justice, then there is no such dualism

between a world of the Unlimited qualities, because qualities are indeed

tools of Arising and Passing Away, thus tools of justice.[8]

 

This is really heady stuff, not to mention pretty abstract, so let us now jump ahead to Book 2 of Tolstoy’s War and Peace and join Nicolas Rostóv in chapter 8, to be more precise, where he is standing by the bridge in his Hussar’s uniform observing the French artillery firing upon the Russian troops behind him. The bridge is a crucial strategic point as it is the only way for the French to continue in pursuit of the Russian soldiers, who have been retreating over it and the Hussars have been tasked with setting fire to the bridge in order to destroy it and prevent Napoleon’s troops from the further possibility of advancing. This is one of the skirmishes between the two armies before the eventual all- out battle at Austerlitz in Book 3. So, Rostóv is really in hero mode now,as the Russian army are dependent on he and he alone to demolish the bridge. Tolstoy describes the scene, and as is typical with Tolstoy, the situation turns quite quickly raher comic.

 

Rostóv absorbed by his relations with Bogdánich had paused on the bridge not

knowing what to do. There was no one to hew down ( as he had always imagined

battles of himself), nor could he help to fire the bridge because he had not brought

any burning straw with him like the other soldiers. (p.114)

 

And, while our hero stands there quite idiotically, a bomb falls knocking a fellow hussar to the ground and stretchers bearers are called for. It is the nearest sign for Rostóv that Reality is nearing, and that if he continues to stand around on the bridge like an idiot he could very well be next to fall to the ground. In just this passage, Tolstoy, a former soldier himself, gives a very vivid picture of war. And then, after painting building up the scene of battle, he then describes what happens next.

 

Nicholas Rostóv turned away and, as if searching for something, gazed into the

distance, at the blue waters of the Danube, at the sky, and at the sun. How beautiful

the sky looked; how blue, how calm, and how deep! How bright and glorious was

the setting sun! With what soft glitter the waters of the distant Danube shone. And fairer

still were the far away mountains beyond the river, the nunnery, the mysterious

gorges, and the pine forests veiled in the mist to their summits…There was peace

and happiness… ( p.114)

 

And there we have it, in the middle of this intense outworldly turmoil of warring armies, there is Nicholas Rostóv amongst it all having this Heraclitean vision. Anyone, who has been in a car accident, or any violent confrontation, will recognize what is happening to Rostóv here. His body, sensing danger, has secreted adrenaline into his blood stream as it is the body’s defence to prepare him for the battle ahead. Everything slows down so that it is as if one was able to see things with total objectivity and so one can prepare to react to the very violence ahead. I remember experiencing a very similar feeling while flying through the air when a Jeep that I had been travelling in collided on the road in such a way that the Jeep was sent flying into the air and as I too was pulled off my seat with the force of the impact, I experienced this incredible feeling of peace and contentment, and the whole world was passing before me in what appeared to be slow motion, before I eventually hit my head off something and reality came crashing back. And this is Tolstoy’s genius, he renders now the reaction of Rostóv with tremendous comic effect, as it is totally believable. This is the humour of war.

 

At that instant the sun began to hide behind the clouds and other stretchers came in

view before Rostóv. And the fear of death and of the stretchers, and love of the sun and

of life, all merged into one feeling of sickening agitation.

‘O Lord God! Thou who art in heaven, save, forgive, and protect me!’ Rostóv whispered.

The hussars ran back to the men who held their horses; their voices sounded louder and

Calmer, the stretchers disappeared from sight.

‘Well, fwiend? So you’ve smelt powdah!’ shouted Váska Denisov just above his ear.

 

This is exactly the moment when Rostóv acknowledges, finally, that he is in fact a coward. In just this section of the book, a matter of a mere page, his character is revealed up to him through the intense brutality of war. This is exactly the moment when the reader has an epiphany about the title of the book, which up to this moment had been quite a puzzle, and it is because of the depth of human emotions which the reader is able to experience through the character of Nicolas Rostóv, a man who is at once both comic and tragic, in other words - human. Indeed, we are reminded so very much of Heraclitus’s most famous dictum, fragment  82, which appears under the title of this article. Nicholas Rostóv is now finally a free man.

 

*

 

 

In The World as Will and Idea, Arthur Schopenhauer, in the very first chapter, cites Heraclitus before Plato when he is attempting to trace the origin of reason citing how he lamented ‘the eternal flux of things’;

 

We recognise the simplest form of the principal ( of reason) to be time. Each moment

in time exists only in so far as it has effaced the preceding one, its progenitor, and

only to be itself in turn quickly effaced. The past and the future ( if we may disregard

the consequences of their content) are empty as a dream, and between them runs the

present as a mere boundary -line without extension and without duration. [9] 

 

From such a conundrum, Heraclitus was to come up with his famous analogy of the river running and how you could never step into the same place twice, and so for rationalist philosophers from Heraclitus on, the world of the senses must be seen as one great deception. Things are never as they would appear to be, truth, or reason, stands apart from the things that appear before one. This is the great moment of truth in western civilisation, what Martin Heidegger was to later call ‘The Inception of Occidental Thinking Logic: Heraclitus’s Doctrine of the Logos’[10] pinpointing Heraclitus himself, as Arthur Schopenhauer was to, as the beginning of reason in the west. The first man to see beyond things themselves, the physical manifestation of phenomenon, and to recognise them for what they really were. ‘It is Mâyâ’, Schopenhauer says, ‘the veil of deception,’[11] quoting the Indian philosophers and this is something that Tolstoy really liked about Arthur Schopenhauer, as unlike so many other European thinkers Schopenhauer, like Tolstoy himself, was to embrace ideas from many diverse cultures. [12]

In chapter 14 of Book 3 in War and Peace, Tolstoy situates us on the Pratzen Heights when the sun is just rising to illuminate the great fog which will cover the view of the French troops from the Russian, as deception or feint, as ever, are the tools which he uses to deceive the Russian Generals into thinking where he will place his armies. And, they are wrong. The great strategist, who is compared to the Antichrist in the very first paragraph of the book,[13]is seen overlooking the scene.

It was nine o’clock in the morning. The fog lay unbroken like a sea below, but

higher up at the village of Schlappanitz, where Napoleon stood with his Marshals

around him, it was quite light. Above him was a clear blue sky, and the sun’s vast orb

quivered like a huge, hollow, crimson float on the surface of that milky sea of mist.

The whole French army, and even Napoleon himself with his staff, were not on the

far side of the streams and hollows of the Sokolnitz and Schlappanitz beyond which

we intended to take up our position and begin the action, but were on this side, so close

to our own forces that Napoleon with the naked eye could distinguish a mounted man

from one on foot.   ( p. 210)

 

Only Napoleon can see things clearly. Through the eyes of Prince Andrew, who sees the whole unfurling deception unfolding before his eyes, we, the readers, are given privy access too to the diabolical deception that Napoleon has created by strategically placing his troops where the Russian Generals, and Emperor Alexander, his arch- rival, have not expected him to be. The reference to the Antichrist is very revealing, and the symbolism of the sun also. Tolstoy was an aristocrat, we must remember, and a believer in the status quo. So, the sun is a symbol that is doubly charged as it can at once represent the Sun King Louis XVI, who lost his head at the climax of the French revolution some few years before the events at Austerlitz, and who is representative of the monarchy and its demise, and the sun, of course, can also represent the age of the enlightenment and which is largely considered to also have been born in France thanks to rationalist thinkers like Rene Descartes and Voltaire who were advocates of reason, and of course whom Napoleon is also, to some degree, representative of in the sense that he is representative of the new order. Yet, the way he is portrayed by Tolstoy in War and Peace, one is reminded more of Beethoven’s reaction upon hearing of Napoleon’s self-crowning. Tolstoy is no dreamer, he is more than aware of how reason can be used, like in the case of Napoleon, for the most unreasonable purposes.

Through the tragic figure of Prince Andrew, Tolstoy shows the whole ensuing debacle unfold, and in the most piteous moment, the Russian Emperor, who only some chapters before was shown like a God parading with his troops some days before the battle, and now, some days later, is shown like a pitiful wretch after only just barely managing to escape with his life from the unexpected French assault. Indeed, in these chapters ( 14,15,16 and 17) it is as if Tolstoy is actually embodying Heraclitus’s dictum on war, fragment 82.  War is the father of all and king of all, and some he shows as gods, others as humans; some he makes slaves of, others free.” Napoleon, using his powers of reason, yet to evil purpose, is shown here almost as a God, petty, but godlike, while the Emperor Alexander is brought low (almost human!) and Prince Andrew himself a slave after his eventual capture by the French troops. Napoleon himself notices him still breathing while lying falling in and out of consciousness upon the battlefield. It is a moment of extreme parallelism, as Prince Andrew has the very same peaceful feeling as Rostov when he does actual see combat, once again signalling the very Heraclitean notion of dualism in complete Being – War and Peace, two sides to the same coin.

 

What’s this? Am I falling? My legs are giving way,’ he thought, and fell on his back.

He opened his eyes , hoping to see how the struggle of the Frenchmen with the

gunners ended, whether the red-haired gunner had ben killed or not, and whether

the cannon had been captured or saved. But he saw nothing. Above him there was

now nothing but blue sky – the lofty sky, not clear yet still immeasurably lofty,

with grey clouds gliding slowly across it. ‘How quiet, peaceful, and solemn, not

at all as I ran,’ though Prince Andrew – ‘not as we ran, shouting and fighting,

( p. 217)

 

While we leave the Prince contemplating the clouds and his fate, he thinks he is dying, in the next chapter ( chapter 17), Nicolas Rostóz takes up the account and we see the French cavalry charging through the Russian hussar’s eyes, he is now a messenger and is trying to get through the French lines in order to pass it on to his superiors, despite the fact that at this stage in the game, with the surprise attack of the French, the message that he has been asked to convey, which had been a warning to prepare Russian sharpshooters for the possibility of just such an attack, has now been rendered redundant. But then this absurdity is all part and parcel of the whole mess of the whole encounter which started with the fog ( the fog of war) and which is all the more underlined by the jibes of the Russian troops as they are marching blaming the Germans for the confusion that ensues as they are descending into the fog bound valley. ‘Ah those damned Germans! They don’t know their own country!’ ( p.210) The ‘Germans’ referring to their Austrian allies, which just adds to the farce of the proceedings and which is rather reminiscent of the great triptych by Paolo Uccello of The Battle of San Romano in which the great artist of perspective depicts the two opposing armies in carefully assembled rows of cavalry and men underlining how little things had changed as regards battle formations from renaissance times to Napoleonic, and which bring an almost cartoonish element to the whole visual extravaganza.

Cavalry, in Napoleonic times, just as in 15th century in the time of the princely states of Italy, were of course the true sign of might of a force and whose origins far outdated the medieval knights of old going back to even more ancient times. Indeed, in Tolstoy’s depiction of the Horse Guards charge in chapter 17, which Rostóv witnesses, I was reminded of the ancient Greek mythological figure of the centaur, which, after the motif of the fog or mist, is the second motif linked to the theme of deception that I wish to now treat.

 

The last of the Horse Guards, a huge pock-marked fellow, frowned angrily on

seeing Rostóv before him, with whom he would inevitably collide. This Guardsman

would certainly have bowled Rostóv over ( Rostóv felt himself quite and tiny and

weak compared to the gigantic man on the horse) had it not occurred to Rostóv to

flourish his whip before the eyes of the Guardsman’s horse. The heavy black horse,

sixteen hands high, shied, throwing back its ears; but the pock-marked Guardsman

drove his huge spurs in violently, and the horse flourishing its tail and extending its

neck, galloped on yet faster. Hardly had the Horse Guards passed Rostóv before he

heard them shout, “Hurrah!” and looking back saw that their foremost ranks were

mixed up with some foreign cavalry with red epaulettes, probably French. He could see

nothing more, for immediately afterwards canon began firing from somewhere

and smoke enveloped everything. ( p.219)

 

The contemporary Italian philosopher Roberto Esposito in Pensiero viventi Origine e attualità della filosofia italiana ( 2010), seeks to identify a common theme to Italian philosophy distinct say as indeed French theory, German idealism or British empiricism, and the distinctive trait that he comes up with is the physicality of Italian thinkers from Machiavelli, Giordano Bruno to Giambattista Vico. But it is to Leonardo da Vinci, in the central section of his study that Esposito halts, and in particular to focus on the sketch for The Battle of Anghiari which for Esposito comes to signify, in one exquisite image, the notion of bio-philosophy and which he believes is so singular to Italian philosophy, as a school distinct from any other. This incredible image, of which only the copy by Peter Paul Rubens ( 1603) remains, as the original by Da Vinci has tragically gone missing, for Esposito, at least, summons up, so ‘inextricably entangled’[14] the relationship between man and beast.

One of the earliest examples of the image of the centaur dates back to around 900 BC to Lefkani where a terracotta figure ( h. 36 cm, 14.8 in.) was found depicting an anthropomorphic creature with the body of a horse and the torso and head of a human that we have now come to recognise as the centaur, and which is now housed in the Museum of Eretria[15] . Of course, in mythology they are always associated with the Lapiths, both peoples descending from Ixion and who both had a horse cult in common[16] and if we think of the mythological tale the creatures are forever associated with drunkenness, violence and rape. The mythological tale tells how the centaurs, after drinking potent wine for the first time, having been invited to a noble wedding soon ended up in a pitched battel with the Lapiths after attempting to sexually assault the women folk, including the bride, and so which provoked all- out- war between the two tribes.

The notion of drunkenness and warfare is a common one, and which is the third motif aligning with the overall theme of deception in the present text, one reads about reports of the Russian troops today, apparently drunk while committing countless atrocities and war crimes. But, again, soldiers found drunk and at war is as old as Homer[17], and of course Tolstoy is aware of this when he paints the vast tableaux of the warring armies at Austerlitz. In fact, the more you contemplate the chapters depicting the famous battle, with their astonishingly accurate portrayals, the more you see them like friezes at Pergamon, say, or adorning some great arch in the forum. Take for example the scene in chapter 17 when Rostóv the Russian hussar is to be found wandering upon the battlefield after his encounter with the House Guards in the previous chapter.

 

‘Where is the Emperor? Where is Kutúzov?’ Rostóv kept asking everyone he could stop,

but got no answer from anyone.

At last seizing a soldier by his collar he forced him to answer.

‘Eh, brother! They’ve all bolted long ago!’ said the soldier laughing, laughing for some

reason and shaking himself free.

Having left that soldier who was evidently drunk, Rostóv stopped the horse of a

batman or groom of some important personage and begun to question him. The man

announced that the Tzar had been driven in a carriage at full speed about an hour

before along that very road and that he was dangerously wounded. ( p.221)

 

The fog of war is the phrase that is attributed to the German military analyst Carl von Clausewitz whose book Von Kriege/On War ( 1832) Tolstoy would surely have been familiar with, and along with the fog, representing unreason, we have already looked at the motifs of the centaur representing the beastly side of man, caught in the vortex of negative passion, in a sense ‘drunk’ on violence. In order to get men worked up before battle, it has long been the case of soldiers to get intoxicated before going into action in order to be able to numb themselves for the horrific tasks ahead, and for Tolstoy in War and Peace the appearance of the drunk is deeply symbolic of the folly of the whole episode. Tolstoy was to famously embrace pacifism later in life, he is even reported to have been a decisive influence on Mahatma Ghandhi who had apparently read Tolstoy’s The Kingdom of God is Within You ( 1894) and which is largely attributed to convincing Gandhi that passive resistance was the way forward. Tolstoy was, of course, a world celebrity at that stage in his life, mainly due to his two most famous novels War and Peace ( 1869) and Anna Karenina ( 1878).

Heraclitus was contemptuous of alcohol and particularly drunkenness, if the fragments are anything to go by. ‘A man when drunk is led by a boy, stumbling and not knowing where he goes, having his soul moist.’ [18]( fragment 106). Yet, for soldiers fallen in battle Heraclitus would seem to be more benign, as the following aphorism, or fragment, says the following- ‘Souls slain in war are purer than those that perish in diseases.’ ( fragment 107). [19] This is where Tolstoy certainly departs from the pre-Socratic thinker, as in Chapter 18 of Book 2 he makes his feelings about war very clear, and here we must treat the final motif, dung or excrement, as the final chain in the theme of deception which underscores the novel. Here we finally bid goodbye to Rostóv as he wanders hopelessly through the battlefield after seeing the Russian army, once so proud and dashing, now in a complete state of chaos and defeat so much so that his whole world seems to be defeated.

 

Rostóv considered, and then went in the direction where they said he would be killed.

‘It’s all the same now. If the Emperor is wounded, am I to try to save myself?’ he thought.

He rode on to the region where the greatest number of men had perished fleeing Pratzen.

The French had not yet occupied that region, and the Russians – the uninjured and slightly

wounded- had left it long ago. All about the field, like heaps of manure

on well-kept, well-ploughed land, lay from ten to fifteen dead and wounded

to each couple of acres. The wounded crept together in twos and threes and one

could hear their distressing screams and groans, sometimes feigned – or so it seemed

to Rostóv.’ ( 222)

 

 

Bibliography

 

 

Beckett, Samuel: Disjecta, Miscellaneous Writings and a Dramatic Fragment, Edited by Ruby Cohn, Grove Press ( 1st paperback edition), New York, 1984

Esposito, Roberto: Pensiero vivente, Origine e attualità della filosofia italiana, Piccola Bilioteca Einaudi, Torino, 2010.

 Heidegger, Martin: Heraclitus – The Inception of Occidental Thinking and Logic: Heraclitus’s Doctrine of the Logos, Translated by Julia Goesser Assaiante and S. Montgomery Ewegen, Bloomsbury, London, First English Edition, 2018.

 McKirahan, Richard D. : Philosophy Before Socrates, An Introduction and Commentary, Hackett Publishing Company, Indianapolis/Cambridge, 1994.

Nietzsche, Friedrich: The Pre-Platonic Philosophers, Translated from the German and Edited, with an Introduction and Commentary, by Greg Whitlock, University of Illinois Press, Urbana & Chicago, first paperback edition, 2006, 

Schopenhauer, Arthur: The World as Will and Idea, Edited by David Berman and Translated by Jill Berman, Everyman, London, 2004.

Tolstoy, Leo: War and Peace, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude and with an Introduction and Notes by Henry and Olga Claridge, Wordsworth Classics, 2001.



[1] The text I shall be referring to throughout the article is;

Tolstoy, Leo: War and Peace, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude and with an Introduction and Notes by Henry and Olga Claridge, Wordsworth Classics, 2001.

In a note on the back cover of this edition, the publisher has remarked that this translation had ‘Tolstoy’s approval.’

 

[2] See ABC of Reading, 1934.

[3] I was responsible for organising the bicentenary celebrations for Charles Baudelaire for the Alliance Francaise in Dublin during the Covid 19 pandemic, 2019.

http://web.alliance-francaise.ie/newsletter/april21.htm

 

[6] Beckett, Samuel: Disjecta, Miscellaneous Writings and a Dramatic Fragment, Edited by Ruby Cohn, Grove Press ( 1st paperback edition), New York, 1984. p.21.

[7] McKirahan, Richard D. : Philosophy Before Socrates, An Introduction and Commentary, Hackett Publishing Company, Indianapolis/Cambridge, 1994, p.123.

[8] Nietzsche, Friedrich: The Pre-Platonic Philosophers, Translated from the German and Edited, with an Introduction and Commentary, by Greg Whitlock, University of Illinois Press, Urbana & Chicago, first paperback edition, 2006, p.63.  

[9] Schopenhauer, Arthur: The World as Will and Idea, Edited by David Berman and Translated by Jill Berman, Everyman, London, 2004, p.7.

[12] In his book What is Art? Tolstoy quotes the work of a lot of thinkers and philosophers, among them Arthur Schopenhauer and Hegel. He was particularly enamoured with the works of Schopenhauer and his philosophy of stoic detachment particularly to the world of the senses which the German thinker was to famously extoll. Throughout What is Art? Tolstoy berates artists and poets like Baudelaire whom he saw as being caught up uniquely in the world of the senses, and which for him were to show how superficial a lot of modern art was. Tolstoy berates Nietzsche for the same reason and a lot of what he sees as the modernist artists and writers in general and we can locate his reasons directly here at this quote by Schopenhauer, which Tolstoy would have been very familiar with as it was to become the cornerstone of his own way of thinking. 

[13] ‘Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now family estates of the Buonapartes. But I warn you, if you don’t tell me that this means war, if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetuated by that Antichrist- I really believe he is the Antichrist – I will have nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer my “faithful slave”, as you call yourself!”

These are the first two sentences of the novel, Tolstoy’s genius is to situate the reader right from the word go like a fly on the wall in the parlour of elevated society in Saint Petersburg. But the irony for today’s reader is Vladimir Putin, who was born in the very same city and who grew up there, is currently the ‘Antichrist’ who is responsible for the massacre at Bucha and countless other atrocities. 

[14] Esposito, Roberto: Pensiero vivente, Origine e attualità della filosofia italiana, Piccola Bilioteca Einaudi, Torino, 2010, p.91.

[15] Spivey, Nigel: Greek Art, Phaidon, London, First published 1997, p.58.

[16] Graves, Robert: The Greek Myths, Penguin Books, London, 1992, p.361.

[17] One of the main themes of The Odyssey is drunkenness, Odysseus uses Maron’s wine to get Polyphemus drunk before he blinds the Cyclops with the olive stake which they have heated upon the fire in the cave in the climax of the epic tale and when he manages to secure freedom for himself and his companions in the epic tale. 

[18] McKirahan, Richard D. : Philosophy Before Socrates, An Introduction and Commentary, Hackett Publishing Company, Indianapolis/Cambridge, 1994, p.106.

[19] Ibid.


No comments:

Post a Comment