11.9.02 – Jackson, MI

on war and peace and smutty novels:

everyone on the tour gives me shit for reading war and peace (i am, as usual, the resident literary nerd). i got into tolstoy the easy way, thru smaller novels, but war and peace really is magnificent – i’m not just being pretentious. i admire tolstoy because he’s one of those writers who has a style that no one else has ever managed to emulate, yet he’s inspired generations of writers with his attention to detail. and i just figured out who, exactly, he inspired. see the passage below:

After talking for a little while in the general circle, Speransky got up, and going to Prince Andrey, drew him away to the other end of the room. It was evident that he thought it well to interest himself in Bolkonsky.

“I have not had time for a word with you, Prince, in the engrossing conversation into which I was dragged by that excellent old gentleman,” he said, with a smile of bland contempt, by which he seemed to take for granted that Prince Andrey and himself were at one in recognizing the insignificance of the people with whom he had just been talking. This flattered Prince Andrey. “I have known you for a long while: first from your action with the serfs, the first instance of the kind among us, and an example which one would desire to find many following; and, secondly, from your being one of those kammerherrs who have not considered themselves wronged by the new decree in regard to promotion by court favor, that has provoked so much criticism and censure.””

“Yes,” said Prince Andrey, “my father did not care for me to take advantage of that privilege; I began the service from the lower grades.”

“Your father, a man of the older generation, is undoubtedly above the level of our contemporaries, who condemn this measure, though it is simply an act of natural justice.”

“I imagine there is some basis thought even for that condemnation,” said Prince Andrey, trying to resist the influence of Speranksy, of whom he began to be aware. He disliked agreeing with him in everything; he tried to oppose him. Prince Andrey, who usually spoke so well and so readily, felt a difficulty even in expressing himself as he talked with Speransky. He was too much occupied in observing the personality of the celebrated man.

“In the interests of personal ambition perhaps,” Speransky slowly put in his word.

“And to some extent in the interests of the state,” said Prince Andrey.

“How do you mean…?” said Speransky slowly, dropping his eyes.

now, the same passage, re-written so that the characters are of opposite genders and are meeting, say, at a cocktail party full of powerful business tycoons:

After talking for a little while in the general circle, Angela got up, and going to Andrey, drew him away to the other end of the room. It was evident that she thought it well to interest herself in him.

“I have not had time for a word with you, Andrey, in the engrossing conversation into which I was dragged by that excellent old gentleman,” she said, with a smile of bland contempt, by which she seemed to take for granted that Andrey and herself were at one in recognizing the insignificance of the people with whom she had just been talking. This flattered Andrey. “I have known you for a long while: first from your action with the Deluca account, the first instance of the kind among the firm, and an example which one would desire to find many following; and, secondly, from your being one of those partners who have not considered themselves wronged by the new decree in regard to promotion by nepotism, that has provoked so much criticism and censure.”

“Yes,” said Andrey, “my father did not care for me to take advantage of that privilege; I began the firm from the lower ranks.”

“Your father, a man of the older generation, is undoubtedly above the level of our contemporaries, who condemn this measure, though it is simply an act of natural justice.”

“I imagine there is some basis thought even for that condemnation,” said Andrey, trying to resist the influence of Angela, of whom he began to be aware. He disliked agreeing with her in everything; he tried to oppose her. Andrey, who usually spoke so well and so readily, felt a difficulty even in expressing himself as he talked with Angela. He was too much occupied in observing the personality of the celebrated woman.

“In the interests of personal ambition perhaps,” Angela slowly put in her word.

“And to some extent in the interests of the state,” said Andrey.

“How do you mean…?” said Angela slowly, dropping her eyes.

see? instant smutty novel. at the end of this scene they slip off to the ladies’ room for a hot, steamy sex scene before their respective spouses can notice they’re missing. it’s his attention to physical detail that reminds me of a smutty novel. he sketches out subtext in the flick of the eyes, in the way that a teacup is lifted or a head is turned. i don’t have any smut handy to use as a comparison, but i imagine that the curious could find plenty on the internet without too much effort.