Thursday, November 17, 2011

This paper from last fall was accepted for publication in a literary journal.

Tolstoy: An Incomplete Conversion

Although he descended from nobility on both his mother’s and his father’s sides, the Russian aristocrat Count Leo Tolstoy came to renounce his life of privilege, pleasure, and material excess. At fifty-seven years old, having already achieved great literary success and fame, Tolstoy underwent a spiritual and philosophical conversion experience. This conversion caused Tolstoy to renounce his fame as an artist, to recant his work in literature, to reject Russian church orthodoxy, and to embrace an ascetic life. He came to believe that the path to true holiness was through self-denial and physical hard work. But Tolstoy never gave up his title, his home, or his notoriety. Essentially, he never gave up his security. Although he dressed as a peasant, the peasants still knew him as Count…not as one of them. And although he worked alongside the peasants, he still lived in his home. And although he gave up writing fiction, he used his fame as the author of War and Peace and Anna Karenina as a platform for his post-conversion message of social reform. In reviewing H. Troyat’s biography of Tolstoy, Richard Gustafson notes that Tolstoy “was a man who would sacrifice all to correct the world’s evil—all but his own comfort and security” (Gustafson par. 2). The inconsistencies of Tolstoy’s moral position indicate a deficient conversion experience.

Born into a prominent Russian aristocratic family with vast landholdings, Tolstoy grew up enjoying the advantages of his class and spent two-thirds of his life as a student, soldier, sensualist, venerated writer, and happy family man. But becoming increasingly discontent and disillusioned with the life of the privileged, Tolstoy came to believe “that, like the rest of his class, he was but a social parasite, living a pampered and unreal life on the toil and bloody sweat of multitudes who yet were happier than he…” (Adams 85). As Tolstoy’s love for the Russian peasants grew over the years (A. Tolstoy 151), he did not refrain from castigating the minority upper class for wielding its power over the peasant masses in the form of slavery (Abraham 113).

Having lived the “usual dissipated life of a man of his class” (Charney 536), Tolstoy turned to studying the teachings of Jesus and Jean-Jacques Rousseau in his search for a paradigm of true selfless living (Taylor par. 2). As a result, he rejected the life of the Russian aristocrat to which he had been born and to which he had adhered until he was fifty-seven. “He cast aside convention, position, and worldly fame, and turned lovingly to share the life of toil and self-renunciation” (Adams 86).

Tolstoy journaled from his early days about his feelings of insecurity within his own class. Ann Hruska notes that he had a “cloudy conception” of what it meant to be a Russian aristocrat. This lifelong struggle with his own position in life is chronicled in his early work Childhood, Boyhood, Youth. The main character, Nikolenka, “simultaneously identifies with and is repulsed by members of the lower classes—a tendency shared by Tolstoy himself” (Hruska 64). Citing an example from Tolstoy’s Youth, she examines “Nikolenka’s obsession with comme il faut, a set of rules about proper aristocratic behavior. They include long and perfectly clean nails, excellent French, the ability to bow, dance, and converse, and most importantly, indifference to everything, and an ‘air of elegant, supercilious boredom’ (chapter 31)” (Hruska 71). In noting the long fingernails and using words as “indifference” and “supercilious boredom,” Tolstoy displays his contempt for the upper class and comme il faut.

Hruska recognizes that identifying Tolstoy’s feelings toward the classes has been a subject of controversy for scholars. While she notes that Russian critics usually see Tolstoy as “the champion of the peasantry, who rejects the corrupt and oppressive aristocracy” (Hruska 67), she also points out that Western critics interpret Tolstoy “as a self-proclaimed upholder of the standard of the aristocracy” (Hruska 67). Hruska maintains a middle position of interpreting Tolstoy as having a conflicted allegiance with the nobility. Hruska acknowledges that Tolstoy, “despite his rank of Count…sometimes expressed uncertainty about the degree to which he belonged to the aristocracy” (Hruska 66). Tolstoy’s attitude toward the aristocracy and rising middle class and the peasant class is evident in other pre-conversion fictional work also. In Anna Karenina, Tolstoy has one of the peasants say to Levin, “People are different…some live only for themselves, only to fill up their bellies—others—the honest ones, live for their souls, they remember God” (A. Tolstoy 153).

As Tolstoy aged, his conflicted allegiance to the upper class definitely waned. He became less sympathetic and much more cynical toward the nobility. James Olney also recognizes Tolstoy’s struggle to embrace a meaningful and selfless life, and that he did not find it in the occupations of the socially elite: “indulging in parties, cards, pleasure every night, or tastefully decorating an apartment, or lying in bed reading French romances and eating gingerbread and honey” (Olney 102). In Ivan Ilyich Tolstoy satirizes the haute bourgeoisie. His attack is consistently ironic as he “effectively destroys the pretensions of this dominant but hollow social caste” (Olney 109) to which Ilyich belongs. Ilyich’s character is representative of Tolstoy before his conversion. With this understanding, Ilyich’s conversion as he dies physically and rejects “that false and unreal, socially-selfish and immoral life” (Olney 109), can be understood to represent Tolstoy’s conversion and rejection of the same.

In My Confession, Tolstoy describes how, as a youth, he abandoned himself to ambition, lust of power, selfishness, voluptuousness, pride, anger, revenge” (L. Tolstoy 8). Writing after his conversion, he says that he looks back on that life and its practices with “dread, loathing and anguish of heart” (L. Tolstoy 8). Having examined so closely his own feelings about his ties to a pretentious and selfish nobility, Tolstoy created the fictional Ivan Ilyich as an example of an egocentric and self-serving social class. Just as Ilyich finds meaning for his life when, through the approach of death, he perceives and rejects the hollowness of his selfish life, so Tolstoy found meaning for his life in renouncing the luxury and privilege to which he had been born and embracing a career as an ascetic. It troubled him that the peasants worked hard all day in the fields “while the landowners enjoyed wealth, luxury, and leisure. So he began to labor with them” (A. Tolstoy, 152).

Tolstoy idealized this path of labor and sweat as the path to salvation. “‘Labor to earn one’s bread,’ Tolstoy wrote, ‘is a panacea to save humanity. The law that a man must work in order to eat should be regarded as a blessed law of life, an obligation for everyone…’” (A. Tolstoy 154). For Tolstoy, the Russian peasant came closer to God than the other classes (A. Tolstoy 151); because intimacy with God was what Tolstoy craved, he lived and worked among the peasants to gain this same access. He wrote that the peasant’s soul “is still enlightened with true Christianity, which promises so much to those who know how to understand it” (A. Tolstoy 156). Thus, Tolstoy wholeheartedly embraced the “rural peasant lifestyle” (Taylor par. 3).

My Confession chronicles Tolstoy’s spiritual journey from a self-consumed, Russian Orthodox aristocrat who “had never believed in earnest” (L. Tolstoy 5), to a morally self-justified, earnest believer in the peasant religion and lifestyle. “In contradistinction to what I saw in our circle, where all life passed in idleness, amusements, and tedium of life, I saw that the whole life of these people [the peasants] was passed in hard work, and that they were satisfied with life” (L. Tolstoy 59-60). It is clear from Tolstoy’s post-conversion fiction and non-fiction that he had formulated a religion of self-abnegation. His primary doctrine was that of “the destruction of private ownership and in the distribution of land to the people who work manually” (Stanoyevich 751). But we see a serious inconsistency in Tolstoy’s practice of his religion life: that he never disowned his own land and estate, or eschewed his title. Stanoyevich allows that “To this criticism of…private property there were cogent objections. Tolstoy was called an inconsistent author who speaks one thing and does another…a charlatan” (Stanoyevich 751). This ambiguity of Tolstoy’s moral position raises the question of the thoroughness of his conversion. While he abounds in candor, he lacks in action.

F. J. Abraham writes, “The infinite labor [Tolstoy] took in propagating his ideas was no more than a constant reiteration in varying language of just a few extraordinary, simple doctrines expressible in a few sentences” (Abraham 106). He was well-known, after his conversion, for his vegetarianism, for living in a small room on his estate, for wearing peasants’ clothing, for giving up sex with his wife, and for laboring alongside the peasants on his estate. He also descries the pursuits of science and the arts. These self-imposed denials of luxury and ease seemed to assuage the conscience of a man who felt guilty about having so much while witnessing the want of the peasant masses. But Tolstoy was never able to bring himself to let go of the security that his worldly position, his noble birth, gave him. This particularly sets him apart from the peasant masses. They could never be certain of their food, their shelter, their rights, and their comfort. They must work for everything, yet never be guaranteed anything. Tolstoy, as a nobleman, however, could always count on these necessities as certain. The difference between the two positions is enormous. While Tolstoy’s “zeal and loftiness” cannot be doubted—his writings are “passionate, sincere, and uplifting” (Stanoyevich 759)—his conversion seems to be incomplete.

The inconsistencies of Tolstoy’s moral position stand out even more when he is compared to other Russian writers of the nineteenth century. Like Tolstoy, both Pushkin and Turgenev descended from noble, wealthy families. They, however, both lived fully aristocratic lives, enjoying all the privilege that their birth accorded them. They comprised the group which Tolstoy expurgated and satirized in his novels. Compared to their indulgent lifestyles, Tolstoy’s self-abasements shine as examples of selflessness. In contrast, Dostoevsky and Chekhov had more plebeian roots. Dostoevsky, while descended from nobility, experienced great hardship in his life. Chekhov emerges as a man who made the most of what he had and who spent his life compassionately. Chekhov is known for his service to the poor. As a doctor, he donated his medical services to the poor throughout his life. As man who accumulated some financial success, he built schools and a medical clinic in his town. “With Chekhov the willingness to serve was much more than a ready-made polite formula; it was one of the dominant traits of his character” (Aldanov 87). Chekhov’s unproclaimed life of service contrasts greatly with Tolstoy’s passionate, hypocritical castigations of landowners and the nobility.

It is not known what held Tolstoy back from completely abandoning himself to the moral principles he ardently preached and propagated. Taylor relates “his dichotomy of personality…to the influence of his aristocratic childhood and its sharp contrast with the rural peasant lifestyle…Tolstoy sought to emulate” (Taylor par. 3). In the last months of his life, Tolstoy thought of leaving “what he considered to be a luxurious life” on his estate to live in a peasant hut in another village. His daughter writes that “at the last moment he changed his mind and decided to join friends in the Caucuses” (A. Tolstoy 155). Ironically, in contrast to his protagonist Ivan Ilyich who dies at peace with his family in his home, Tolstoy died a lonely death, estranged from his wife, at a stationmaster’s house in a railway town.



Thursday, October 20, 2011

Such Different Assignments!

Here's an assignment that required writing a how-to article. For people my age, popular magazines and their articles often seek to strike a balance between the practical and the inspirational. Here's my attempt.

The Art of Living Graciously

How to Cultivate Beauty on the Inside

There’s a lot on TV and in print these days about gracious living. Usually, it’s about up scaling our personal taste in clothing, home décor, or landscaping. For most, a gracious lifestyle refers to one of beauty, wealth and leisure. Morning shows, afternoon talk shows, and a compendium of style magazines barrage us with ideas for imitating the perfect look in clothes and home and with lessons on how to cook amazing food perfectly complemented by delicious wine. Expert guests coach viewers and readers on how to cultivate a gracious personal appearance, a gracious home, and a beautiful yard.

All this implies that if we who are living chaotically in disordered houses with amateurish decorating and neglected yards, wearing untidy clothes from the last decade, and eating processed foods while consuming cheap wine can learn to copy these beautiful appearances, then we, too, will be living graciously.

I’m sorry for ranting. Especially because I’m a sucker for these kinds of how-to’s. I, too, want to live pleasantly, orderly, leisurely, and beautifully. But it bothers me that gracious living is almost completely associated with wealth and ease and beautiful appearances. Doesn’t true graciousness come from and reside inside a person?

I’m uncomfortable with the notion that graciousness is about how we look to others…how we appear. I submit that gracious living is characterized by how we act toward and treat others. It reveals a deep regard for others.

So, how can we live graciously? Here are a few thoughts for working on our inner selves and cultivating true graciousness.

1. Listen to others.

Dale Carnegie is credited with saying, “You can make more friends in two months by becoming interested in other people than you can in two years trying to get other people interested in you.” That’s very true. Most people really want to be listened to. The trouble is that a lot of the time we’re too busy talking about ourselves to really listen to each other. A gracious person is willing to listen and to really hear what another is saying.

2. Promote others.

An old Jewish proverb advises, “Let other people praise you, even strangers; never do it yourself.” What would the world be like if Facebook statuses were kind and celebratory promotions of others instead of proclamations of who we are and what we’ve done. A gracious person tells the wonderful things about other people.

3. Be hospitable.

Entertaining is an opportunity to celebrate our guests. Sometimes, in an effort to please our company, busy preparations can cause us to lose sight of the people. While we work hard to help our guests feel comfortable, we should remember that they want to be with us, and not impressed by our stuff.

4. Be willing to overlook an offense.

Road rage, holding a grudge against a co-worker or relative, making retaliating comments in an argument: these are not traits of a gracious person. Rather, a gracious person is the “bigger person,” one who is willing to let go, forget, and move on.

5. Be modest.

We should all remember that none of us is purely the product of our own hard work. Somewhere and sometime, someone or something contributed to our accomplishments. We should be grateful and pay it forward.

Being gracious can be challenging, but it’s worth it. And with practice, we get better at it. Elsie DeWolfe, pioneer of the American interior decorating craze, put it this way, “Be pretty if you can, witty if you must, and gracious if it kills you.” Another Jewish proverb promises this, “He whose speech is gracious will have the king for a friend.” Gracious people make good friends.

~Diana Walsh

October 6, 2011


Saturday, September 24, 2011

Learning to Write

I'm taking my first-ever journalism class. Thought I'd put up my articles just for kicks. I'm really enjoying it.

Each week we we submit an article in the style of a particular type of magazine. This first one is supposedly for a trendsetter magazine advertising the University of Baltimore. It's tongue-in-cheek, of course, but I think it manages to imitate the patois pretty well.

The second is in the style of a decorating magazine. it's a bit glamorized, I know, but it was fun to write.

Library is Boomtown!

Baltimore’s Hippest are Hoppin’ to Langsdale Library

In the heart of Baltimore’s midtown, folks are flocking to the University of Baltimore’s Langsdale Library for the crunkest party in town. That’s right; the library is not just for nerds anymore. Everybody who’s anybody in Charm City is kickin’ it at 1420 Maryland Avenue.

Langsdale Library is the University of Baltimore’s premiere party spot, capitalizing on the innovative idea that people want to look smart while they’re partying. Certainly the hottest place to see and be seen in Baltimore these days is in Langsdale’s basement club, against its backdrop of government documents, chillaxin’ and gorging from the utterly dope vending machines. You can also spot the elite of Baltimore rockin’ it and smashin’ at Langsdale’s annual Mangoes Social, at the totally amped Finals Week Coffee Break, and at the dazzling semi-annual “Let Them Eat Cupcakes” party (Thanks for the idea, Marie-Antoinette!). And all this won’t cost you a cent—it’s on the house, G!

Recognizing that reading and studying at the library is passé, Langsdale’s staff has freed up much of the library’s 50,000 square feet for socializing. With only one of the five floors completely devoted to document storage and with most of the library’s resources available electronically, much of Langsdale’s floor space offers up comfy chairs for lounging and private little nooks for getting the scoop on what’s clicking in Baltimore. There’s so much to buzz about, it’s rarely ever quiet…so no need to worry about those old fuddy-duddy rules of no talking in the library.

This hot spot also boasts dozens of computers available for checking in with your BFFs on Facebook, MySpace and Bebo while you’re posted up at the library. And if you’re too embarrassed to be seen talking to a librarian…no worries. You can LiveChat
with a librarian from any computer…This place is so cool!

Langsdale also caters to the erudite with poetry readings, discussion forums, and workshops. And this fall, for the lifelong learner, Spanish lessons are available for the el cheapo price of $20!

Don’t miss out on Baltimore’s hypnotizing social scene…Bring all your peeps down to Langsdale Library for the friend-zy!

Blooming Where You Live

How a Passion for Hospitality Transformed a Northeast Baltimore House into a Hamiltopia

“Who’s coming for dinner tonight, Mom?” That’s a regular question in our house, and it’s one I love to answer. We are tremendously fond of company. And we have lots of it! Whether it’s guests for a planned party, friends for an impromptu gathering, or a neighbor just stopping by, we love hosting others.

Our passion for hospitality really grew up around our purchase of a 1929 brick house on a corner lot in the Hamilton neighborhood of Northeast Baltimore. We loved our house the first time we saw it. Situated at the front edge of its corner lot, the three-story, federal style house with a steeply pitched slate roof is instantly striking. The redbrick facade, the sunroom hedged with English boxwood, and the front patio shaded by an old sugar maple increase the appeal of the exterior. From the day we moved in, folks loved to stop by and chat at the fence while our kids played in the yard.

The house’s greatest attraction, however, is inside: an original, oversized, working fireplace graces the living room. Already the focal point of the room, this fireplace would become the center of our family life and our hospitality. Beyond the living room, the sunroom beckons through two sets of original French doors with true divided light. From its three large windows, the sunroom offers views of the boxwood, the yard and both of the streets that form the intersection where the house rests.
Although the house was already quite pleasing when we purchased it, some TLC was needed to enhance its charm. Because we want people to feel invited, relaxed and refreshed when visiting, we undertook several improvements.

To soften the imposing look of the outside, my husband added black colonial style shutters to all the windows, built a colonial style hand rail for the front porch, and replaced the yard’s old chain link fence with a white picket fence. We’ve also scattered several wildflower beds around walkways and patio. Climbing rose, evening primrose, daylilies, columbine, purple sage, Echinacea, wand-flower, goldenrod and sedum are some of the flowers we enjoy while visiting with company on the front patio. This flower-decorated retreat is also a delightful spot for gazing down the sycamore-lined street leading away from the house.
Our desire to offer to others a place where they feel welcomed, enjoyed and listened to has dictated our decorating choices. We wallpapered the sunroom with a classic Williamsburg print: a muted beige stencil of pineapples—the colonial symbol of hospitality. The sunroom also boasts a beautiful set of built-in bookcases, made by my husband when we first moved in. We’ve decorated the living room and sunroom with soft, overstuffed sofas and lots of comfortable chairs. All the upholstery and area rugs are prints so guests don’t have to worry about “messing things up.” While we like our furniture and decorations to look coordinated and attractive, we really want people to feel like they can relax here and not fret about being overly careful with our stuff. Most of the tables and shelves and even decorations are from second-hand stores.
One of the most successful improvements has been to paint the dining room and kitchen an alluring red. Believing that people linger longer in a red dining room, we went for it. We’ve not been disappointed…and neither have our guests. We’ve enjoyed many evenings lingering around the table with good conversation in a cozy room.

Out of our success in creating a warm and comfortable home environment has grown Hamiltopia—a weekly dinner get-together of friends and neighbors where we celebrate and enjoy each other. This weekly gathering has lasted for six years. Almost everyone we know has been to at least one Hamiltopia evening. Our house has truly been warmed—not by the decorations, but by the people who’ve come through.