[Hong]

Originally Posted by Hong

I'll try to recall more details of the book to have the right to put something down here.

MYTWOSENTS:

Checked with a review on wiki and unexpectedly found that my memory of war and peace had become a bit fragmented. However I'd like to write down whatever came to my mind, hoping it could be acceptable. Nataha appears to be a literature figure that one could hardly unimpressed. Her love events with three men of different personality to me symbolize three forms of love that could happen to anyone in the world, as anyone could figured out. The first form which I characterized as spiritual love in essence, is presented in her first love with Andrie Bolkonsky, in that Andrie is intelligent and thoughtful, an intellectual figure, whom Natasha admired, showed respect with imperceptible distance (Did I project how I feel on her? Possibly.). The second form is what happened to her with Anatole (who planed to elope with the beautiful yet immature Natasha), which appears tobe much of taking flirts, playful, maybe sensual to some extent., for Anatole is a handsome playboy hardly with any sense of responsibility but vanity, whereas Natasha is misled at the time of her restless soul caused by the love with Andrie. This kind of love normally is as unsuccessful as the first kind will not be achievable. The last form is viable for its realistic basis, equality and mutual understanding, and her love extends through her marriage and motherhood, which probably represents Tolstoy’s idealistic vein in his personality, i.e. those who have suffered ought at lest to have a happy ending and a woman is complete when she has a husband and children (only my presumption though).

However, if Andrie Bolkonsky and his counterpart Pierre were both represented different personalities of Tolstoy, could we also say as it indicates that spiritual kind of love can hardly be actualized in life (I mean capable of existing in the world as well as in the stories). It can exist but only for one minute (as Andrie Bolkonsky died when both of them realized that they love each other.—this part is the one I thought I could remembered wrong though. Anyway. ) Yet, one minute is the eternity. Maybe that’s why Tolstoy shot it (to) death.

In fact, I have been thinking to comment it from some different angle, say, deconstruction angle, but nothing is willing to show up.