“No, you’re going in vain. . . . You
won’t get away from yourselves.”
See Important Quotations Explained
On the way, Anna reflects on the Moscow cityscape and
on the fact that Vronsky’s love has faded. She thinks he feels only
duty—not love—toward her. At the station, Anna feels disoriented,
focusing on the fakeness of the people in the crowd and hardly knowing
why she is there or what destination to request. She boards the
train and despises the artificiality of her fellow passengers.
Stepping off the train as it stops at Obiralovka, Anna
walks along the platform in a despairing daze, finally resolving
to throw herself under an approaching train in order to punish Vronsky
and be “rid of everybody and of herself.” A train approaches, and
Anna impulsively throws herself under the wheels, begging God for
forgiveness and feeling a pang of confusion and regret when it is
too late. The candle of her life is extinguished.
Analysis
The surprising revelation that Karenin—seemingly the most
rational of people—is under the sway of a French psychic forces
us to reassess his character. His slide from a responsible and powerful government
minister to a lonely and confused man with a stalled career proceeds
with startling rapidity. We see the extent of Karenin’s fall in
the ridiculous scene in which he goes to sleep under Landau’s influence.
The very man who epitomizes rationalism and normalcy early in the
novel is now guided by the flighty comments of a man who is likely
a complete scam. Tolstoy highlights the French nationality of the
psychic and has him deliver his odd prophecies in French (even within
the original Russian text)—gestures that poke fun at the French
cultural tradition, which prides itself on being rational. Tolstoy
suggests that an excessive cult of reason in any culture may be
just as misguided as the most outrageous occultism. Both extremes
are opposed to the grounded experience of life from which Levin
learns. Levin devotes himself simply to his wish to live life, rather
than to visionary or mathematical theories of existence. Consequently,
Tolstoy implies, Levin succeeds where others produce empty phrases
and—like Karenin in the end—lead empty lives.
Tolstoy’s brilliance as a literary psychologist is evident
in the last and biggest of the quarrels that plague Anna and Vronsky’s
relationship. In literal terms, Anna’s anger makes no sense. Vronsky
has shown himself to be agreeably flexible in assenting to Anna’s
travel plans, only requesting that they leave a bit later so he
can finish some transactions for his mother. Anna explodes in response
to this seemingly reasonable request. Her outburst is not logical
but suggests something deeper happening in her psyche. Anna’s fury
at Vronsky’s mother and her resentment at his request that she “respect”
Countess Vronsky stem from Anna’s criticism of the very notion of
respect. She makes this criticism explicit when she says that respect
is a poor substitute for love. It is likely that Anna briefly identifies
with the Countess as a recipient of Vronsky’s dutiful respect rather
than his passionate love. What Anna fears more than anything is
what she abhorred in Karenin—that Vronsky feels duty toward her
but nothing more.
Anna’s death scene is justifiably considered one of the
greatest of Tolstoy’s achievements in the novel, and in Russian
literature as a whole. Her suicide is not merely the end of her
life but also its summation: she acts independently and alone, and
she seeks to escape the falsity of the people around her, just as
she did in life. Yet Anna is not a diva in death, any more than
she was in life. She does not pity herself or appeal to the sympathy
of the crowd; she does not care about what other people think of
her. Anna does not fancy herself superior to anyone but rather includes
herself in the group of people that she wishes to get rid of—she
escapes not just the world but Anna Karenina as well. Tolstoy’s
portrayal of Anna’s final minutes is filled not with the wrath and
vengeance that the novel’s epigraph foretells but rather with great
tenderness. His description of Anna’s life as a candle being illuminated
and then snuffed out forever equates her life with light and truth.
Tolstoy pays a quiet tribute to this character of whom he disapproves
but whom he loves nonetheless.
