There is a vein of dull misery running through much of modern realism. It is not even tragedy, because tragedy requires that the person be suffering as a result of their actions, and that they be emotionally complex enough to understand what is happening to them, and to feel the whole of that pain.
O, Russian stories are emotional. There's a saying from this book that pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.
This Russian man [Tolstoy Red] tells a story about women, he thinks that women are objectified and oppressed. But he tells the story with different and unique ways: based on the conversation in the train--something that we never think about. This book was a short but sharp burst of Tolstoy all wrapped up in the pleasingly presented package.
