Pearls My Mother Wore

I’m liking my new translation of Anna K.  Although it’s much easier to read, I don’t feel as though I’m losing any of the subtle complexity that Tolstoy wove so brilliantly into this story.  I’m fascinated by his ability to capture shifting psychological nuances within each character.  Again and again, jealousies, both petty and profound, seem to motivate his characters.  Whether the issue is social, political, financial, or sexual, each character seems to be angling to match or outpace another.  I’ve always liked the cautionary advice against judging my own insides by someone else’s outsides.  In AK we can see the withering effects from doing just that.

Levin and Kitty are living the married life.  The ever-so-private Levin is doing his best to accommodate Kitty and her large family.  Kitty, for her part, has mastered spousal sonar and is capable of reading Levin’s every mood and inclination.

Being somewhat antisocial myself, I have to say that I feel sorry for Levin.  In part six, Levin’s home is filled with people who are staying for non-specific periods of time.  Sergei, Levin’s brother, is once again visiting, but then there are over a dozen additional guest that Kitty is primarily responsible for bringing in.  Kitty’s best girlfriend, Varenka (the saint that Kitty wouldn’t mind being more saintly than,) is there.  Kitty’s mother is there; remember, Kitty is pregnant, so the elder princess has taken it upon herself to oversee her daughter’s advancing condition.  Kitty’s sister, Dolly, and her eight children are there.  Dolly’s maid has come along.  Stepan, Dolly’s husband – Mr. Womanizing-Eat-Drink-and-be-Merry-Politician is there.  And, Stepan has brought some unknown young fellow, Vasenka Veslovsky, along with him.

Levin takes an instant and persistent disliking to Veslovsky, constantly imagining that the young man is after Kitty.  He tries his best to mask his jealousy, but it doesn’t work, and eventually he orders the man to leave his house and never come back.  The whole episode is highly disturbing to everybody in the house including Levin, but what’s done is done, and they all get back to their various activities.

Veslovsky is a friend of Vronsky’s.  His news of Vronsky and Anna causes Dolly to venture an overnight trip out to the village where they are currently living.  Dolly finds Anna living an enviable life.  Anna seems happy, robust, and radiantly beautiful.  Her home is an exquisitely restored, historic treasure, decorated with the finest furnishings, linens, and imports.  Vronsky – handsome, relaxed, and proud – is pleased to show Dolly the hospital he is responsible for building.  It will bring the most modern and sophisticated hospital services to the area and be regarded as the best hospital in all of Russia.

Vronsky implores Dolly to speak to Anna about getting a divorce.  He wants Anna for his wife because he loves her but also because he wants their daughter and future children to bare his name.  Dolly agrees, but when she tries, Anna is adamant that it’s a lost cause.  It’s not that Karenin would refuse to grant the divorce, it’s that Anna is too much aware of how ruined she already is.  No divorce or marriage will ever un-stain her reputation.  Anna’s resistance to this obvious solution, albeit not a perfect solution, is more than Dolly can handle.  First thing the next morning, Dolly packs and leaves.

With those painful waters stirred, Vronsky announces that he will be leaving for a few days to participate in a new election process for the region.  He knows full well that this will not please Anna, but he resolves to go anyway.  Anna has become wickedly insecure about Vronsky’s love for her.  She attempts to hide her hurt, but he knows her too well.  He’s begun to resent the cloying tactics of charming speech and revealing dress that she’s employed to keep him near.  Both Vronsky and Anna are beginning to feel the constricting realities of the life they find themselves in.

To pacify her loneliness, shame, and isolation, Anna has taken up reading books, reading compulsively.  She has been unable to bond with her baby daughter, and the mothering is left to inferior hired help.  Quality servants refuse to work in a household such as Anna’s.  Part six ends with another foreboding detail, Anna has begun using morphine to sleep at night.

O.K.  I’m on to Part Seven.

BTW, Elizabeth Taylor would have made a great Anna.

Have a great week, and I’ll post again next Friday.

I put Anna Karenina down this week to read something very different: In An Unspoken Voice, How the Body Releases Trauma and Restores Goodness. Interesting how things happen.  I bought this book by Peter Levine PhD last Thursday, hours before Japan’s nightmare began.

Dr. Levine’s thesis, if I understand it, is that the human brain, over many millennia, has evolved in such a way as to allow one to move beyond psychic trauma by recognizing and honoring instincts.  When instincts are thwarted, Levine contends, a repetitive, debilitating, conscious or unconscious reenactment of the horrific event occurs, and an individual becomes trapped in cycle of pain, shame, anger, and sorrow.

On page 256, an illustrative diagram of the human brain details three levels of cognition: the reptilian level, the mammalian level, and the primate level.  In evolutionary terms, the reptilian level of the brain, found closes to the spinal cord, is the oldest.  That’s where instinctual impulses of fight, flight, or freeze are initiated.  The mammalian level is higher on the brain stem and produces our feelings and social inclinations.  The primate level, at the top of the brain, is home of the intellect, where thinking, planning, inhibitions, symbols and memories are created and stored.

If, during some highly alarming event, the instinctive choices of flight, fight or freeze are stunted, the experience remains stuck at the reptilian level, and no amount of “talk therapy,” done at the primate level, will ever fully alleviate the distress symptoms.  An example of this was a case study in which a little boy was terrified by gowned and masked doctors and nurses when he was taken to a hospital to have his tonsils removes.  His desperate screams and struggles were overpowered by the adults who strapped him down and injected him with anesthesia.  Months later, the family asked to Dr. Levine for help because the previously docile and happy boy was now out of control.  Levine and the boy’s family devised a game in which a favorite stuffed toy was used as a patient.  The scenario brought up all of the boy’s fears, but this time he was allowed to run screaming from the room.  The exercise didn’t end there.  With repeated enactments, the boy became more and more at ease with what was happening to the toy, until finally he was capable of participating in the mock surgery.  The new, loving environment allowed the boy to expel his trapped anxiety, and was restored to his more “normal” self.

My apologies to Dr. Levine if I’ve misunderstood his theories, but what I’ve gotten out of his book has been very helpful and enlightening for me.

And now for Japan.  What I have learned about trauma causes me concern for those who experienced that tsunami and are now faced with that seemingly endless debris flow.  As a culture, the Japanese seem so contained.  Admirable as that is, my hope is that any one of those people who needs to holler to the heavens, kick, punch, wail, cry, or whatever expression serves them, will be allowed to do so, without shame, supported by the love and understanding of the world.

Stand by me

Have a good week, and I’ll write again next Friday.

I was working on today’s blog last night when I took a break and turned on the television, then saw that Japan was experiencing an epic catastrophe.  I will never forget those images of debris packed tsunami waters, its unrelenting push over the land, destroying everything and presumably everybody in its path.  The pure, inescapable defenselessness is terrifying.  I’ve never given the word “tsunami” its due, using it far too lightly.  Now I know.  My heart aches for the people of Japan.

And so, as is always the case in the wake of disaster, I wonder what to do next.  I’m going to try my best to write the blog I had intended to write last night.

I‘ve been diligently working my way through Anna Karenina since mid January.  This week I was mildly complaining to my friend, Ruth, about how hard the reading has been.  Then I showed her my book, and she gasped at its layout – the tiniest font and the tightest lines of type.  She strongly urged me to buy another edition.

Oh?  It hadn’t occurred to me that it might help.  Curious about my options, I went to my favorite local bookstore here in Sonoma, Readers’ Books, and low and behold, they had something that appeared quite different.  It was a new/used copy for only $8.   Turns out, I lucked into a used copy of the latest and greatest translation.  It’s won awards and was wholly endorsed by none other than Oprah!   A husband and wife team, Richard Pevear and Larisssa Volokhonsky, wrote this translation.  At a glance, I can already tell that the syntax isn’t nearly as complex as the edition I’ve been working through.  For just one example, in my 1965 edition, the first sentence of Part Five reads: “Princess Shcherbatskyaya considered that it was out of the question for the wedding to take place before Lent, just five weeks off, since not half the trousseau could possibly be ready by then.” My new 2000 edition reads:  “Princess Shcherbatsky thought that to have the wedding before Lent, which was only five weeks away, was impossible, because half of the trousseau would not be ready by then;” And that’s just one sentence.  I suspect my reading pace is going to pick up significantly.  Phew!

Visually, I don’t think the pictures below adequately demonstrate just how different these two editions are, but it’s massive.  The 1965 edition has 43 lines of type on a 4.5 x 7.25 inches page, while the 2000 edition has 39 lines of type on a 5.5 x 8.5 inches page.

1965 edition

2000 edition

Now for a brief plot summery of Part Five.  The first six chapters of Part Five are spent getting Levin and Kitty married.  There’s a touch of farce in it because Levin’s wedding suit is missing its shirt; it’s been packed in the massive pile of luggage that’s about to leave for the country home.  Consequently, he’s quite late for the wedding, and Kitty spends almost an hour wondering if he’s changed his mind.

The action then moves to Vronsky and Anna and the establishment of their new temporary residence in Italy.  Vronsky takes up painting and dons a soft, wide-brimmed hat and a flowing cloak that he flings over one shoulder.  Although Vronsky shows great promise and skill as an artist, he’s shown up by one who’s more accomplished and abandons his efforts.  Before not too long, the two return to Petersburg, especially since Anna wishes to see her son.

In her new county home, young Kitty tries to establish herself as the woman of the house.  She gets a little push back from the servants, but ultimately, she wins them over with her sweet nature.

When Levin receives word that his brother Nicolai’s death is imminent, he argues with Kitty about her joining him to Moscow.  Kitty wins the argument by asserting that it’s her place to be at her husband’s side during a time of sorrow, and she will be of help, not hindrance.  She helps both brothers by her natural womanly ways, immediately seeing what is needed for the patient.  She shows no fear in addressing the emaciated individual with love and kindness.  She cleans the man and completely refreshes his room.  And she sends for better doctors and medicine.  And she sees to it that he receives extreme unction from a priest.

Although her efforts do not save his life, they do make his final hours as comfortable as they possibly can be.  Before breaking off from Levin, Kitty and the dead brother, in a mixture of solemnity and hopefulness, we learn that Kitty is now pregnant.

Back in Petersburg, a new character is introduced, Countess Lydia Ivanovna. The countess is a pious biddy who’s inserted herself into Alexsei Karenin’s life.  Weak and despairing over the shameful end of his marriage, Karenin welcomes her friendship and is inflicted with her brand of scriptural righteousness.  The big problem is that the woman is given charge of Anna’s son, and she tells him that his mother is dead.  Her treachery is far worse than Anna’s infidelity.  Fortunately, Seryozha learns otherwise from an old nurse and doesn’t suffer endless grief.

Anna has to sneak into her old home to steal a visit with her son on his birthday.  The imbalance of power in Anna’s marriage to Karenin is sadly imposed upon the little boy, and it’s tragic when she has to pull herself away when Karenin discovers her in their son’s room.

Anna had planned the visit to her son without uttering a word of it to Vronsky.  He can tell that she is upset, but he knows not why.  Following the birthday disaster, Anna decides to flaunt her disgrace and insists on going to the theatre that night.  Vronsky argues with her, but she will have none of it.  It was interesting to me that Karenin was preoccupied with what people would think of him, while, in this argument, Vronsky is not concerned about what society will think of him but what they will think of her.

It doesn’t go well.  Anna does get publicly humiliated.  Vronsky and Anna reunite in their shared shame and indignation and leave Petersburg the very next day.

O.K.  On to Part Six.

Natural disasters always remind me that everyday is precious and not to be taken for granted.  Enjoy your week, as I will mine.  I’ll post again next Friday.

What an extraordinary turn of events.  The plot twists found in Part Four of Anna Karenina created, for me, a literary mazurka – a spirited dance of grace and gallantry.  A quick Google search informed me that the mazurka quadrille was a wildly popular social dance during the mid and late 1800’s when Tolstoy was writing.  This fact-paced dance was done by four couples coming together and shuffling apart, holding hands and linking elbows, moving clockwise and counterclockwise, clicking heals and stomping feet; it’s a dance that has promenades and genuflections.

For my quadrille analogy to work, we have to see Anna as two separate women – Anna with her much older husband, Alexei Karenin, and Anna with her young lover, Alexei Vronsky.  Stepan Oblonsky (Anna’s brother) and his wife Dolly, and Konstantin Levin and Kitty (Dolly’s sister) complete the four pairs.

The music of the mazurka is bold, fast, and complex.  Chopin wrote dozens of mazurkas from 1825 to 1849.  His musical genius infused the mazurka form with fugue and counterpoint elements to heighten its interest and intrigue; listeners almost leaned forward to catch every keystroke.  The notes are simultaneously independent and harmonious creating robust and ironic musicality.  All of this is to say that the intricacies of a mazurka and Part Four of Anna Karenina have much in common.

Part Four begins with Vronsky working what he feels is a “tiresome” and “irksome” seven-day detail.  He must care for a visiting foreign prince, show him the sights and keep him entertained.  The self-satisfied royal is unstoppable in his pursuits of pleasure; his endless energy keeps him “as fresh as a big glossy green Dutch cucumber.”  What is most offensive to Vronsky about his royal charge is the degree to which he resembles himself.  Revolted, Vronsky is more than happy to be rid of the man and his unflattering reflection at the end of seven days.

Thoroughly exhausted and eager for peace, quiet, and rest, Vronsky returns home to discover a note from Anna insisting that he come see her at her husband’s house right away.  She is too ill from her pregnancy and to unhappy to get to him.  This is clearly a breech of conditions set forth by Alexei Karenin.  Karenin had agreed to ignore the infidelity as long as Anna respected decorum and his dignity and kept it outside their home.

As fate would have it, the two Alexeis cross paths in the doorway of Karenin’s house.  In an odd, wordless exchange, Vronsky bows and Karenin tips his hat in passing.  Distasteful as the encounter was, Vronsky’s discomfort did not end there.  After a week’s absents, Anna is shrill and beside herself with need.  She greets her lover by scolding him for being late, and she accuses him of chasing loose women and keeping secrets from her.  She punctuates each accusation by stabbing at her crocheting.  Her jealousy is unwarranted and most unattractive.  Vronsky notices her loss of luster but gives his dearest a pass because of her advanced condition.

Karenin had left the house to go see an Italian opera.  When he returned home, he did not go to his wife until the next morning, and in a dramatic move of his own, he forcibly takes her love letters from Vronsky.  His fury is so intense that he stumbles over his own carefully planned words.  Anna detests her husband, and the power he holds over her.  She is trapped in his world with no means to affect her own freedom.  Powerless though she may be, she is not weak.  He tries to shame her and her “animal passion.”  She very nearly out-shames him.  “Surely you must feel how easy it is for you to insult me?” she says.  Each of them cries out that the other is “base.”

Karenin leaves Petersburg and goes to Moscow where he begins proceedings to file for divorce.  While in Moscow, whom should he run into but Anna’s perennially joyful brother – Stepan Oblonsky.    Stepan insists on having a dinner party, and Alexei absolutely must join them.  In no mood to comply with social convention, Alexei declines the invitation and is forced to inform his brother-in-law of the unfortunate shift in family status.  Stepan is flabbergasted but refuses to take no for an answer.  He convinces Alexei to come to the party by entreating him to speak to Dolly, that she will help him find his way to a forgiving heart.

Stepan truly wishes to help in Alexei’s situation, but he also wants to throw a good party.  The guest list includes Konstantin Levin and his intellectual brother Sergey.  Unbeknown to Levin, Kitty and her father, Prince Shcherbatsky, will also be in attendance.  And to further stir the pot, Stepan has invited a couple of political rivals.  Stepan shows himself to be a brilliant host, stirring conversation while providing the best liquor and food to his guests.  For Kitty and Levin, the party is a private affair.  Leaving the past behind, they gravitate toward one another with the force of magnetic north.

Several of the men participate in a parlor debate about the rights of women, of all topics.  It comes across as more of a game than serious discussion.  Each man seems to enjoy the sound of his own voice, postulating with bloated circumlocution.  Let’s just say they come across as a bunch of pompous windbags.

Dolly and Karenin do find their time alone, but Karenin is unconvinced.  He’s too angry and bitter to hear her reasoning.  With him we see the deadening effects of love gone wrong.  Meanwhile, in another room, Kitty and Levin are on fire with love, easily finishing the others’ every thought and sentence.  The two lovebirds play a peculiar game using chalk and writing the first letter to each word in a sentence.  Through this game they encode apologies and a second marriage proposal.  The two represent the opposite end of the spectrum from Karenin; they are deliriously in love.  The wedding is announced, and to Levin, the entire world is a better place.

Not so for Karenin.  When he returns to his room, he receives a summons from Anna.  She’s dying, and he must return home ASAP.  On the long train ride back to Petersburg, Karenin ruminates on the beauty of her dying.  It would solve all of his problems.  He would not appear to all of society as a man who divorced his wife.  The scandal would be over.

Now Anna, feverish and a breath away from death has poor, devastated and distraught Vronsky at her bedside.  In her delirium, she begs for the return of her husband.  She knows that, through it all, Karenin is a good and righteous man at his core.  When Karenin enters, he’s taken aback by her praise and adulation.  She pleads with all of her waning might that he forgive Vronsky.  Suddenly, by virtue of her exalted respect, Karenin is transformed.  He no longer hates his wife, he loves her, and he no longer resents his rival, he forgives him.

Karenin’s almost-holy goodwill annihilates Vronsky.  Vronsky “felt disgraced, humiliated, guilty, and deprived of all possibility of washing away his humiliation.”  Forgive this long quote, but it goes on and is too stunningly brilliant to leave out.  “He felt thrust out of the beaten track along which he had so proudly and lightly walked till then.  All the habits and rules of his life that had seemed so firm had turned out suddenly false and inapplicable.  The betrayed husband, who had figured till that time as a pitiful creature, an incidental and somewhat ludicrous obstacle to his happiness, had suddenly been summoned by her herself, elevated to an awe-inspiring pinnacle, and on the pinnacle that husband had show himself not malignant, not false or ludicrous, but kind and straightforward and dignified.  Vronsky could not but feel this, and the parts were suddenly reversed.  Vronsky felt Karenin’s elevation and his own abasement, Karenin’s rightness, his own wrongdoing.  He felt that the husband was magnanimous even in his sorrow, while he had been base and petty in his deceit.”  Wow!

Part Four doesn’t end there.  Vronsky goes home and shoots himself.  Aiming for his heart, he misses and survives.  Anna also survives.  With the return of her health, so returns her loathing toward her husband.  Anna’s invectives lacerate Karenin’s heart, but since his transformation, he remains steadfast in his forgiveness of all her shortcomings.  He even finds love and compassion for the new baby girl that’s been born, Vronsky’s daughter.  It’s impossible not to feel sorry for Karenin.  He’s twenty-years her senior.  He comes across as a father who tried to be strict, and when that didn’t work, became indulgent.  When Stepan shows up at the house, the beaten down Karenin is willing to hear any advice; all he wants at this point is for Anna to be happy.  Stepan now suggest going through with the divorce.  Karenin agrees.  Oh, if it could only be that simple, that cut and dry.  Anna refuses the divorce.  She says it doesn’t matter anymore.

Instead, Part Four ends with Vronsky quitting his job with the military and He, Anna and the baby girl go abroad to live in Italy.  Karenin keeps his son, Seryozha, with him in Petersburg.

One last detail that needs to be mentioned, somewhere during her illness, all of Anna’s hair was cut off, giving her a boyish appearance.  A whole paper could be written on that symbolism alone.

Well, I’m now more than halfway finished with Anna Karenina.  What will Tolstoy do to top it?  Wow!

Enjoy the week, and I’ll write again next Friday.

This past week has been densely packed with activities.  Unfortunately, very little of what I’ve done was particularly interesting – medical stuff, money and tax stuff, home repair stuff, bills, grocery shopping, laundry, cleaning, and then of course there was my job and volunteer work.  This afternoon, things should be slowing down and I’ll be able to return to, my favorite, unstructured time.  I sure bristle at schedules; I think it’s because, as a hairdresser, my days are scheduled down to the minute.  When I’m off work, I like to be free to do whatever I please.  I like to roam around like I could when I was a kid.  Alas, those days are gone, so occasionally, I have to act like an adult and take care of business.

I’ve only been able to read 36 of the 86 pages in part 4 of Anna Karenina.

While I’m eating lunch and dinner, I squeeze in a few minutes of TV.  During lunch I watch The View.  At dinnertime,  Lutrell and I watch The Colbert Report, Jon Stewart’s The Daily Show, CNN, and auto racing and pro cycling when they’re in season.  All of it is prerecorded on our TIVO system, and we fast forward through much of it.  Dietitians always advise against watching television and eating at the same time, but were guilty of doing it anyway.

On Sunday, I’m 100% certain that I’ll be watching the Academy Awards during dinner and after.  I look forward to the Oscars every year.  I like to see how the size ones and zeros look from head to toe – hair, clothes, jewelry, shoes, clutches, whatever they’ve got going on is fine with me.  I like seeing what the guys are up to fashion-wise too.  It’s always a nail-biting thrill to hear what the actors say on the red carpet, because that’s when they often reveal their true humanness.  Sometimes they come across as great, and then occasionally they really flub-up, and that’s amusing, not to be cruel or anything.   I just dig the show.

Last night I drove down to Marin, to Book Passage.  Jasmin Darznik was launching her wonderfully successful memoir, The Good Daughter.  There certainly was no flubbing-up from her.  I can say I knew Jamin when.  I met her five plus years ago when we were both in a writing class together.  At the time, she was wrestling with writing her doctoral thesis, but yearning to work on something more personal.  We all encouraged her to follow her heart, and she did.  Today, she not only has a book on the New York Times best seller list, but she also has her PhD…from Princeton!  Her memoir is the amazing story of what happened after she discovered an old photograph of her mother as a 14 year old child bride in Iran.  The man in the photograph was not Jasmin’s father.  The unraveling of many secrets held by her mother ultimately brought mother and daughter closer together than they had ever been.  Well done Jasmin!

Lutrell and I did get out one evening for an aerobic  walk.  Our efforts were rewarded by the sighting of a small bobcat.  Lutrell took these pictures with a camera that has a telescopic lens.  We were nowhere near as close as these pictures suggest.  The animal was a beauty.

Glen Ellen Bobcat 2-19-11

Glen Ellen Bobcat 2-19-11

Have a great week, and I’ll post again next Friday.

I’ve just finished Part Three of Anna Karenina.  I’m 372 pages into this 851 paged novel.  At times while I was reading, it felt like two pages were being added for every one page I finished, but I’m hanging in there.

Part Three begins and ends with scenes from Levin’s life, and those were great.  The middle was about poor Anna and her predicaments.  Her controlling husband threatens to take away her son if she doesn’t comply with his wishes, which are to proceed as if nothing has happened.  Her lover, Vronsky, is still dashing, but he’s deeply in debt, and that certainly doesn’t bode well for the aristocratic, clandestine couple.

But it was Levin that carried the day for Part Three.  He delivers the family tensions that the first sentence of the novel (“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way”) promised.  Tolstoy shows us Levin’s relationships with his two older brothers; there’s antagonism, insensitivity, duty, and a touch of love.

The beginning of Part Three is set in spring.  Levin is invigorated by the myriad of farm chores that kick-off the season.  It’s a time of intense planning and labor, not visiting and relaxation, so when Levin’s brother Sergey Ivanovich shows up unexpectedly from the city, Levin is forced into a hospitality that he doesn’t entirely feel.  Sergey has come to the family’s country estate to rest and indulge himself in idle inactivity.  He rises many hours after his brother and seems oblivious to the ways of the land his brother is so doggedly tending.

Sergey enjoys his own long-winded, philosophical theories regarding the local peasantry.  Working shoulder to shoulder with these locals, Levin doesn’t understand what his brother is talking about.  Although they are not on equal footing, Levin sees them as his neighbors, not some abstract group that is to be studied academically.  For Levin, he sees each man as an individual who must be judged on his own merits, not clustered together and generalized about.  Ah, but Sergey is a much more skilled debater, so while Levin had felt secure in his position that his neighbors did not need special thought or considerations, he ends up confounded and unsure of what he thinks.  The whole exchange reminded me of the skilled pundits of today, everybody from Bill Maher to Jeff Beck, who can argue so passionately and persuasively that my less sophisticated, less knowledgeable, Levin-like head spins.

Part Three concludes on a very different note.  The beginning was robust, filled with the activities and promise of spring.  The ending has the unexpected arrival of Levin’s other brother, Nikolai, the highly agitated, consumptive, drug and alcohol addicted, dying brother.  The wintry pall Nikolai casts over Levin’s home life and livelihood is captured in their spot-on dialog.

Levin is working on writing a book that he believes will revolutionize agricultural productivity.  Nikolai, in his ill-health and foul-humor disparages Levin’s ideas, and then goes personal in that biting way families are famous for.  Nikolai says to Levin: “You’ve never had, and never have, convictions;  all you want is to please your vanity.”  Levin does not reply “Look who’s calling the kettle black.”  He pathetically replies, “Oh, very well: then let me alone!”  So, Nikolai bounces back in the most childish of ways: “And I will let you alone!  And it’s high time I did, and go to hell! and I’m very sorry I ever came!”

Can’t you just see it?  They’re both furious.  Eventually however, Levin tries to sooth his dying brother, but Nikolai will have none of it.  Only at the very end does Nikolai say to Levin with a quivering voice, “Anyway, don’t remember evil against me, Kostya!”  The sincerity of that moment pushed Levin over the edge and he burst into tears of real sorrow for what was sure to soon be his brother’s demise.  Levin becomes so depressed by his brother that he’s nearly suicidal, but it’s the guiding light of his strong work ethic that keeps him afloat.

Now I’m on to Part Four.  Will Levin ever get over his wounded pride and re-propose to Kitty?  He so desperately wants a wife and family, but his standards are high and ultimately unrealistic.  I’m hoping he will humble himself and eventually find happiness.  As for Anna, I’m thinking she’s going to suffer mightily for her crime against her marriage.  I’m not sure how the peasantry class and infidelity themes will play off of one another, but I suspect they will.

On a personal note, all is well.  I did better last Saturday at “Random Acts” then I had on my first try.  Again it was a lot of fun, a big crowd filled with fantastic artists.  The rain has returned, which is good because I’ve wanted to catch a couple of movies before the Academy Awards next week.  I loved The Kings Speech, but I’m rooting for The Fighter.  Blood and sweat aside, The Fighter told a terrific story!

Have a great week, and I’ll post again next Friday.

Last Monday was the first Monday of the month, which means I was at my Left Coast Writers group.  LCW meets at one of Northern California’s most fabulous book stores, Book Passage.

The guest speaker for the evening was Kevin Smokler, the CEO of BookTour.com and the author of Writing in Unreaderly Times.  We couldn’t have asked for a more enthusiastic representative of the new publishing paradigm.  Kevin’s excitement was infectious.  He was informative and funny.  Although he did not suppose to know the future with regards to publishing, he was persuasive in his assertion that writers need not fret over the digital age.  Historically, readers and writers alike have feared for the written word.  Kevin got big laughs from the room when he reminded us that not that long ago the demise of literature was suppose to come as a result of the automobile.  It was believe that people would give up reading in favor of driving.  Point noted: readers will always find time to read, and writers will always find ways of filling that need.

The evening was doubly exciting for me because I hooked up with a gentleman who has organized an all-day event for self-published authors.  Bill Walker’s company is named Simplie Indie and he is all about independent publishing for both books and music; he himself is a musician.  Walker also exuded an effervescent attitude about the power of self-directed publishing.  His event will be at the end of April and is to be held outside of Sacramento at the Roseville library.  I’ll be one of eight authors in attendance, so now I’ll have something to post on Kevin Smokler’s BookTour.com.  It’s all good.

Tomorrow evening will have me throwing my name in the hat at Readers’ Books.  On the second Saturday of every month, Readers’ hosts an event called “Random Acts.”  Random Acts is essentially amateur night at the book store.  Any one who cares to participate is able to throw their name in a hat then it gets pulled randomly for five minutes of microphone time.  I’ll read some more from Pearls My Mother Wore.  This will be my second time participating at Random Act, and I hope this time I do better than my first.  Now that I know the scene, I should be more relaxed.  Last month when I was there, what really struck me was how very supportive the room was.

Until next time, have a great week, and I’ll post again next Friday.

P.S.  I’m still reading part 3 of Anna Karenina, so until I finish it, I’ll hold my thoughts. : )

Leo Tolstoy Sept 9, 1828 - Nov 20, 1910

Last weekend we received a good inch of rain, which meant there was no mountain-bike riding on Sunday.  Consequently, I was able to do some extra reading this week and finished part two of Tolstoy’s eight part novel, Anna Karenina.

Part one introduced the main characters and took place primarily in Moscow.  By the end of part one, we see that Anna Karenina has stolen the heart of young Kitty Shcherbatskaya’s suitor, Count Vronsky.

Part two begins with Kitty ill from a broken heart.  At her mother’s insistence, she’s being seen by the crack doctor of the day.  Kitty finds the whole exam to be humiliating and pointless.  She assumes a rosier disposition, but is too emotionally weak to sustain it.  The doctor is reluctant to see his patient travel abroad but eventually consents to her going with her parents to a German Spa for several weeks of curative waters.

Next, the action moves to Petersburg where Anna, her son, and her husband live, where Vronsky is stationed, and where high society is peopled by three distinct groups.  One group consists of Alexei Karenin’s political circle.  A second group is described as “the conscience of Petersburg society” and is made up of religious minded, elderly women and clever, ambitious men.  The third group is the wealthiest of them all.  It’s a tier of society that Anna only barely belongs.  This coterie is occupied with holding balls and fine dinning.  They are the young and fashionable, and they adore gossip and intrigue.  I picture the Paris Hilton crowd of the 1800′s.  Anna and Vronsky are darlings of this scene for their unveiled passion for one another and Anna’s scandalous infidelity to her husband, the elder statesman.

I was surprised in Chapter Eleven when nearly a year has gone by and after the final consummation of their affair, Anna is only then inconsolable with shame and remorse.  I didn’t expect her to be so thoroughly deflated by Vronsky’s sexual conquest.  To his credit, Vronsky does not use and then lose Anna; he remains devotedly committed to her, come what may.

In another part of Russia, Levin has all but recovered from the humiliating refusal he received from Kitty.  It’s the beginning of Spring, and Levin is filled with joy and enthusiasm for the preparatory work that must be done to ready his agricultural operations for the coming seasons.  He’s absolutely in his element, perfectly at ease with the rural life he’s chosen when his old friend Stepan Arkadyevich Oblonsky arrives from Moscow to sell some neighboring land.  Levin does his best to ignore the memories of Kitty that Oblonsky’s appearance rekindles.  By the end of the day however, he can’t stop himself and demands to know what has become of Oblonsky’s sister-in-law, Kitty.  Discovering Kitty has been unwell and remains unmarried seriously disrupts Levin’s bucolic serenity.  He becomes irrationally perturbed by his friend’s handling of the neighboring property sale, and their discussion become heated and uncomfortable.  In the end however, the two men fight like brothers and eventually calm down and reaffirm their friendship.

Back in Petersburg, Anna is pregnant.  Vronsky insists they find a way to be together, but Anna points out how impossible it would be — that her husband will have none of it.  The action of this dilemma is perhaps metaphorically embedded in a steeplechase race that Vronsky is to compete in.  His beloved horse, Frou-Frou, is beautiful and high-spirited.  Tragedy occurs in the race when Vronsky lands a jump improperly and breaks the horse’s back.  During the rush of concern for horse and rider, Anna, in the grandstands, loses sight of Vronsky and openly displays her horror that her lover may be dead.  Alexei Karenin is keenly aware of Anna’s unseemly distress and all but pulls her from the crowd.  During the carriage ride home, Anna is petulant and cruel to her husband.  Finally, she burst with rage and tells her husband that she hates him and wants out of the marriage.  She confesses that she is Vronsky’s mistress, but says nothing of the pregnancy.  In an act of absolute self-control, her husband merely asks that she respect his position in society and observe a reasonable amount of propriety until he can secure his honor.  I suppose we’ll see what that means later in the novel.

Part two concludes back at the German Spa with Kitty and her parents.  It’s a place filled with invalids and the dying, rather purgatory-esque.  Kitty makes up fanciful, elevated stories about the people she encounters.  She befriends one girl in particular, Verenka.  Verenka is quite saintly in her attention and ministrations to the weak around her.  Kitty attempts to copy her friend but in a moment of real growth comes to realize how fake she is being, and that care must be more than just a show, it must come from the heart.  When Kitty and her parents return to Russia she is on much more sure footing and is prepared to face Moscow society.

So that’s how far I’ve gotten.  I’m enjoying the novel, and I’m eager to see what will happen next.

Meanwhile in my personal life, all is calm.  I spent a pile of cash this week at my local nursery on flowers.  Among my purchases were two Daphne Ordora; they’re  small winter-flowering shrubs, and their fragrance is divine.  My backyard looks so cheerful now that the fresh pink, yellow, purple and red flowers are in.

As always, have a good week, and I’ll write again next Friday.  Comments are always welcomed; just click on the “Comment” link.

“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,” is the first sentence of Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy.  Anna Karenina was serialized in eight parts, originally published from 1873 – 1877; last night I finished reading part one.

From the first sentence, I was hooked.  Initially intimidated by the massive appearance of the novel (851 pages filled with the tiniest font), I’m finding that it’s far more readable than I had imagined.  The sentences are easily understood, and the scenes are readily envisioned.  The Russian names of each character are something of a puzzle, but I’m pleased with myself for sticking with them, and although they don’t yet roll off my tongue, I can say them.  There’s none of the convoluted syntax or labyrinthine plot lines that my prejudicial assumptions had me afraid of.  I assumed those old masterpieces were revered for their complexity, written in code that only the educated elite could decipher.  Wrong.  Anna Karenina is classic because of its timelessness and keen understanding of the human condition.  This is a book that can be picked up and put down in short reading spurts, which is good because I’m grabbing it every chance I get.

The story is told by an omniscient third-person narrator, but the point of view shifts depending on which of the characters is being described.  So far, each chapter depicts a short scene in which one character’s perspective is revealed.  As the reader, I see that particular character’s actions but I’m also privy to his or her privately held thoughts.

The first character to be introduced is not  Anna Karenina, but her brother, Prince Stepan Arkadyevitch Oblonsky (“Stiva.”)  He’s been unfaithful to his wife and was caught.  His household consequently is in upheaval as his wife, Dolly, takes to her room and refuses to attend to any of her former wifely duties.  Like so many philanderers, Oblonsky loves his wife after a fashion but is less sorry for what he did, than for the disturbance to his daily routine it has caused.  Despite the distressing situation, Oblonsky prepares himself for his day with all the vigor and vanity of a prancing horse.  I couldn’t help but think of our recent presidential hopeful, John Edwards, when I pictured Oblonsky – all smiles, cologne, and good looks.

Next we meet Konstantin Dmitrievitch Levin, Oblonsky’s long-time friend who has arrived in Moscow from his country estate to ask Princess Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Shcherbatskaya, referred to as Kitty (Dolly’s sister) to marry him.  When it comes to the question of marriage,  Levin and Oblonsky are miles apart.  With Levin’s pining  for the 18-year old debutante, Kitty, juxtaposed to Oblonsky’s laissez faire attitude toward his wife, the two men both come across as tragically comic.

Levin’s rival for Kitty’s hand is Count Aleksei Kirillovich Vronsky.  Vronsky is a military officer from a highly esteemed family.  He’s young, suave, confident, and handsome, all qualities Levin is not.  Kitty refuses Levin’s proposal with the hopes for one from Vronsky.

Finally, Anna Karenina arrives on the scene to help mend her brother’s shattered marriage.  Anna is as contrasting to Dolly as Oblonsky is to Levin.  Anna is voluptuous, graceful, witty, worldly, and wise; she is magnetic in her beauty and draws all eyes to her when she enters a room.  Dolly on the other hand is used-up, her beauty sacrificed to her duties as wife and mother.  Oblonsky said of Dolly that she was “…a worn-out woman no longer young or good-looking, and in no way remarkable or interesting, merely a good mother,…”  Anna’s appealing nature becomes problematic when she attracts the ardor of Kitty’s once-suitor, Vronsky.

Along with the love machinations of the aforementioned aristocratic characters, there are peripheral stirrings of the Russian proletariat.  Sprinkled here and there are many servants with varying responsibilities within the homes and outside.  Oblonsky, a civil servant, paper-pusher with little power of conviction is willing to follow the majority, whatever they may be.   Levin’s brother, Nikolai, a resentful, consumptive alcoholic rants of revolution while abusing the woman he supposedly rescued from a whore house.  Near the end of Part One, some of Vronsky’s friends seem to be slumming it for style, mixing with lower company.  And then there is Anna’s husband back in Petersburg, Aleksei Aleksandrovich Karenin, a senior statesman who gives an inordinate amount of his day to his constituents.

So that’s how far I’ve gotten.  I’m looking forward to seeing what will happen in Part Two, and when I do, I’ll write about it.  Perhaps this description will pique your interest and you’ll consider reading Anna Karenina too.

Have a great week, and I’ll post again next Friday.

I received a pleasant surprise in the mail this week, a favorable critique of Pearls My Mother Wore by a Writer’s Digest (WD) judge.  Back in March of last year I entered the 18th Annual Writer’s Digest Self-Published Book Awards contest.  It cost me $125, plus a copy of Pearls My Mother Wore, plus shipping.  When the contest was over, I was offended that, as a non-winner, I heard absolutely nothing from them, not so much as a “Thanks for participating” letter.  Well, that changed this week.

Judge #47 read my novel and gave it some very high marks and praise.  I wasn’t aware of how the novel would be evaluated for the contest, but now I see from my WD letter that there were four categories of achievement: Plot, Grammar, Character development, and Production quality and cover design.  A scale of 1-5 was used — 1 being “poor” and 5 being “excellent.”  I was given two 4′s and two 5′s!  Plot and grammar were both 4′s, and Character development and Production were both 5′s.

Furthermore, here is what judge #47 had to say:

“Pearls My Mother Wore by Terry Sue Harms has a really attractive cover design, and although I would cut the first sentence, the write-up on the back cover is very good, giving the impression of a sensitive and intelligent, as well as poignant, novel.  On the whole, the reader’s expectations to find those qualities are met.  The author deftly intertwines past and present to demonstrate the way people never escape their pasts.  Events decades old can profoundly affect an individual on a daily basis, and in making that point, the author succeeds in creating believable characters, providing impressive insight into human nature, and evoking truth:” [a quote from the novel follows that colon, but I'm omitting it because it gives away some of the ending.]

Under “How can the author improve this book?” the judge said:

“At times, the author depends a bit too much on narrative summary to get the story told.  The novel is strongest when the author creates vividly dramatized scenes.  In general, the author should try to be more conscious of evoking sensuous details, making her reader not only see but also feel, taste, smell and hear.  Nonetheless, the author has, I believe, probably fulfilled her intentions in the novel and has reason to be proud of her work.”

How cool is that?!  Somebody at the magazine really did read my book.  This is some seriously positive feedback.

BTW, the first sentence of the back cover reads: “Pearls My Mother Wore is about loss and recovery, resentment and forgiveness.”  You never know with these things.  I thought it was a concise statement about the book’s overarching themes.  I’ll wonder about its appropriateness some more, but if anybody cares to chime in on the subject, I’d be all ears (well eyes actually.)

On to another subject.  Lutrell and I visited his aunt and cousins up in Carson City, NV this week.  Carson is about a four hour drive from Sonoma.  Along the way we stopped at Nevada Beach State Park on the south shore of Lake Tahoe for a picnic.  The sunshine was off and on, but it was lovely all the same.

South Shore Lake Tahoe 1-16-2011

One afternoon we took a hike out King’s Canyon in Carson.  There is something about the eastern slopes of the Sierras that just knocks me out.  I like how uncluttered it is.  Spare with full open vistas, the area makes me feel expansive and light.

Waterfall trail off King's Canyon Rd.

And one final note before closing for the week.  Tomorrow will be this blog’s one year anniversary.  I’ve posted every Friday except for the one time I was on vacation in Sierra City where there was no internet service.  Although I’m now comfortable with Facebook, this blog always feels like home.

Have a great week.  Thanks for reading.  I’ll post again next Friday.  And as always, your “comments” are welcome anytime.