Nº 101 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/273]
23 October 1884. Yasnaya Polyana.

Last night I went to bed quite late; but this morning I got up at 8 and again took tea with Dmitrij Fëdorovich.²⁸⁵ I am continuing to correct the transcription. Today I didn’t want to tire myself out and finished at 3, and went to Yasenki to buy post-office envelopes. The weather’s turning bad — a haze and fog. But I had a glorious walk and did a great deal of thinking on the way back about how I should manage the household while we are alive, and [given] the way we live. I should start with Yasnaya. I have a plan as to how to manage things [here] in accordance with my convictions. Maybe it’s hard, but it has to be done. — My general reasoning is this: even if we manage our household on the (false) basis of property, we still have to manage it as best we can in terms of justice, inoffensiveness and, if possible, kindness. Even disregarding that, it’s now clear to me that if what I consider to be the truth and the law of the people must become that law applied in actual life, this will only happen if we, who are the wealthy and oppressing, voluntarily renounce wealth and oppression; and this will happen not suddenly, but by a gradual process which will lead to this [goal]. This process can be set in motion only when we ourselves control our own affairs and, most importantly, when we ourselves enter into communication with the people who are working for our benefit. I want to try to do this. I want to try, completely openly, with no force but with kindness, to deal directly with the people at Yasnaya. I believe this can be done without mistakes or great loss, even without any loss at all. It could actually be a good project. At the right moment when you are listening, I would like to tell you [all about it], but it’s all so difficult to describe. — I think I’ll start [this project] right away. I [plan] to take over all [responsibility] from Mitrofan and take charge of things myself, and come occasionally [to Yasnaya] during the winter, and then work [here] consistently, beginning in the spring. — Maybe I’m being inadvertently corrupted by the desire to spend more time in the country, but I feel that my life has taken a wrong turn as a result of my neglect, my disregard for what has been done, and done for my benefit, completely contrary to all my convictions. — This disregard has also included the fact that I, with my public disavowals of private property, out of fausse honte was unwilling to get involved with private property lest I be accused of inconsistency. Now it seems to me that I have grown out of that. I know in my own conscience how consistent I am. But, my dearest, please bear in mind that this is a matter very precious to me, and don’t react with unthinking fervency and don’t spoil my mood. I am confident that no harm will come from this, and that something both good and important may come of it. — I fear that you will not understand me. And how could you from this muddled expression?

This morning I received your brief but pleasant letter²⁸⁶ — I see that everything’s fine for the time being. How is your health? Write to me with more details — if you have the time and desire [to do so]. — I am quite healthy [myself]. Today I had some black radishes with kvass, country soup and baked turnip.

I received nothing from Tula; only a registered letter for you, which I shall try to col-lect tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll ride over to buy materials for the boots [I’m sewing] for Stakhovich.²⁸⁷ I’m so happy that [the writer Sergej Alekseevich] Pisarev isn’t dead!²⁸⁸

Put the following advertisement in the papers — which ones, I don’t know, whichever [your] Muscovite [acquaintances] recommend: “For sale, 15 versts from Tula on the Kiev Highway in the village of Yasnaya Polyana: 10 young stallions from Kirghiz mares, as well as factory-farm stallions, ready for the harness and riding. Mares of the same breed are also for sale here. Ask the foreman.”

Hugs and kisses to you and the children.

Regards to Mme Seuron and M[iss] Lake.²⁸⁹

Sharik²⁹⁰ présente ses respects à Mme Seuron. Il me fait l’honneur de m’accompagner dans mes promenades.

On the envelope: Moscow. Khamovniki Lane. Countess S. A. Tolstaya. Private house.

Nº 102 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 112]
[25 October 1884. Moscow]

I had just sent off my letter [to you] yesterday, dear Lëvochka, when I received yours²⁹¹ [dated 23 October 1884]. By some strange co-incidence, everything you say to me I not only do not object to, but I myself have been thinking exactly the same thing — i.e., on the estate where we live at least half the year, it is unconscionable not to manage it ourselves when it comes to dealing with the [local] people. We can draw the same benefit — if not an even greater benefit, I think — while anything that is [as of now] disappearing, or being stolen, or being treated wastefully, can thoughtfully be given away, or [used to] help or share with the peasants. Our relations [with them] will be the most favourable — our profit from Yasnaya has been so insignificant that it is not worth talking about; but with your skill and cleverness (once you have the desire) you can carry out any task superbly. So what if it were an excuse to take a trip to the country — so much the better — you won’t feel ashamed or listless by leaving us to take care of the business which feeds, educates and maintains us. — I don’t know whether I’ve understood you [correctly], but I am responding according to my understanding.

If you are settling with Mitrofan, ask him for the housekeeping records [for the purchase of] provisions. I gave him 100 silver roubles to give to Popov’s butcher shop [in Tula]. It will also be necessary to take the keys from him for the larder and the annexe. He himself might be honest, but the females around him are fearsome swindlers. Make sure you dismiss Arina²⁹² — there’s been a whole history attached to her; she was caught stealing half the milk. Judging from [the way she handed] the bottle of milk to the unfortunate Fedot,²⁹³ I saw how reluctant and frustrated she felt — [an attitude] simply out of spite. She’s such a despicable evil woman, a gossip and a schemer. But we shall not retain [such] evil people on our new estate. Take me on as your assistant — I’ll gladly do all sorts of jobs, if only my health gets a little better, but in spirit I am so cheerful and at peace, and ready for anything.

Today I am feeling somewhat better, though yesterday I was up until 3 in the morning with a fever, shaking all over with pain, and even my teeth were chattering. I need physical peace, of the strictest kind, and I know that myself, and will strive for it, so that I can all the sooner be more fit for any task.

I interrupted my letter as I just received your letter and that of Vasilij Ivanovich.²⁹⁴ My whole good and peaceful mental state has been shattered. As much as you try to comfort me with assurances that the money will be there, I simply can’t imagine where it’s going to come from. And our expenses in Moscow, even with the strictest economising, are so great that it’s a sheer disaster, becoming more terrible every day. — Of course it would be easy if you were with me and could help, and were kindly able to assist me in all my activities. When we get together, we’ll have a talk. We need to clarify what should be done in Samara, and it would be good if you or Ivan Ivanovich could do this. Don’t you see how hard it is on the peasants themselves without papers and specific conditions? You are ruining yourself and them, too.

You say that the children won’t write to you? I remind them every day, but they’re pretty lazy. I give them all sorts of encouragement, but it still doesn’t make any difference. Today Lëlja was contrary. Kashevskaja²⁹⁵ was supposed to give him a lesson, but he complained he was tired. “I don’t want to,” [he screamed,] “I just got home from the gymnasium.” (Today [on Thursdays] he arrives home at 3, and so his music lesson is from 3:30 to 4:30.) Then Masha studied in his room — there was nowhere else she could do it — he complained loudly again that there was nowhere else for him to go, that he wanted to do some wood carving right at that very moment. When I tried to tell him we have to live as a family and make concessions to each other and get along, so that everyone feels comfortable, he snorted and said that he would lock the door to his room. Yesterday, however, all the older kids went to the Tolstojs,²⁹⁶ and he and I played four-handed [piano], and we had such a happy and friendly time! — Serëzha’s very good; yesterday he kept criticising Tanja and meekly offered her good, serious advice not to let herself go but get involved in some serious activity, and she listened and said: “Yes, I have to, absolutely.” Il’ja’s rather taciturn, but at the same time meek and nice to me. Masha today got down to all her lessons right away.

Before you come, write me, otherwise your stove is not yet stoked and it will be cold. — Regarding the cow mentioned by Ivan Ivanych, you still haven’t given me your answer.

I haven’t gone out visiting, and shan’t go out, for 12 days now. That’s what the doctor ordered — to move as little as possible, and so I am not seeing anybody, which is very pleasant — [it means] I can do [more] things with the children. [Visitors] can come and see me, if they like, in the evening, when the children are asleep.

You didn’t write anything today about your activities, your health and your mental state. Probably because you were in Tula; in any case, I looked [at your letter] just now and [I can] see you’re not that well, not as well as I had hoped.

You keep asking me to write in more detail. Well, this is how our day went: I got up late, went to [check on] the little ones; Sasha ran a fever all night long, now it’s just the sniffles; the boys were at the gymnasium, Serëzha spent the whole morning at home, playing the piano, and then after a hearty breakfast, spent the whole rest of the day without dinner at the laboratory. Kashevskaja gave lessons to Masha and began [to hold classes] with Andrjusha, which made the boys terribly excited, even ecstatic. Lëlja began to feel out of sorts, as I already wrote you. Tanja and Vera²⁹⁷ went to Kuznetskij Most [Street]. Tanja needs a dress. She didn’t buy one, she doesn’t want a cheap one, nothing appealed to her, and she wasn’t prepared [to buy] an expensive [dress].

Masha’s Russian teacher took dinner with us; she’s very simple and nice. After dinner everyone went upstairs to play, or work under the lamp in the drawing-room, while I sat down to write you. In the morning I taught Andrjusha. I put together and assembled a whole [sewing] machine, quietly tidying up. But no matter what I do, it keeps hurting more and more inside, especially now, towards evening.

Tanja asked at Gauthier’s²⁹⁸ whether they could order the works of Chinese [philosophers].²⁹⁹ They said they could, but it would cost about 80 shillings. We declined [to order] from Wolff’s³⁰⁰ [a similar shop nearby], since he said he hadn’t received [any copies], and that probably the whole edition was sold out.

As for astronomy, I haven’t yet found anyone to ask; twice now [our son] Serëzha has not found Ivakin³⁰¹ at home. That’s all for your requests. There have been no letters that have come [here] for you lately.

They haven’t finished renovating the upstairs yet here, and today I felt rather upset on looking back at all the projects I initiated, and now I have started to feel such hatred toward all this construction going on in the drawing room, which the wallpaperers are putting in order. Farewell, dear Lëvochka. Today I wrote something longer, but I fear it’s pretty much an empty letter again. My nerves are frightfully weak, and I shall take some potassium bromide — [Dr.] Chizh prescribed it for my back pain and because my nerves are currently so weak that the disease is not yielding to treatment. I received an unpleasant letter from Tanja: she approves of the duel,³⁰² and chides Mamà for reading her letter to her [family]. Hugs and kisses. I love you.

Sonja.

Nº 103 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/278]
28 October 1884. Yasnaya Polyana.

Your letter yesterday³⁰³ greatly upset me — greatly. If it weren’t for our projected change in management, I would come right away, which I shall now do very soon. I’ve been feeling very gloomy these days. I don’t know whether it’s something physical going on here, and some sort of upheaval going on in me, or my loneliness, but your condition seems to me to be the main [culprit]. What will [your] letter tomorrow say? —

Today I remembered that I’m 56 years old, and I’ve heard, and noticed, that [in each] seven-year period a person undergoes a change. The main upheaval in me was: 7 × 7 = 49, precisely when I entered the period in which I now find myself. These seven years have been frightfully fraught with inner life, clarification, fervour and breakdown. Now, it seems to me, that has passed, it has gone into flesh and blood, and I am searching for activity on this path. And either I shall die, or I shall be most unhappy, or I shall find [some] activity that will completely absorb me on my path. Writing activity, it stands to reason — the one I can most relate to and am attracted to. — Oh, if only you weren’t unhappy — the way you describe it to me in your latest letter.

I went around the whole estate today — found out everything [I need to know] and tomorrow I’ll get the keys. There’s no special complication, but there’s no one to put in charge when you leave. Especially the house and everything pertinent to our lives. If I leave now, I’ll put Filip in charge for the time being. At least he won’t get drunk, he won’t lose the money, and won’t allow [the place] to be ransacked.

[Our] poultry must be liquidated. They cost around 80 roubles to feed. Of course, it’s frustrating. By the way, I don’t really feel like writing [this letter]. I probably shan’t get any reply. I am missing you terribly. The letter [you’re writing] today, [which I’ll get] tomorrow, will be decisive. Please don’t think that I’m unhappy with my mental state. I’m unhappy with myself and I worry about you. As for me, my mental state I find useful.

Today I walked around the estate, then rode horseback, and the dogs followed me. Agaf’ja Mikhajlovna said that without a leash they would attack the cattle, and she sent Vas’ka³⁰⁴ along with me. I wanted to test out my hunting sense. To ride and hunt after 40 years of experience is very pleasant. But a hare jumped out [onto my path], and I wished him luck. Mainly, I feel shame [for having been a hunter]. —

I returned home, took dinner and sat down with the old women and Dmitrij Fëdorovich [Vinogradov]. Your account statement³⁰⁵ [of necessary monthly expenses] doesn’t frighten me. In the first place, the money will be there, in all probability. Secondly, if it isn’t, the seemingly irreducible expenses will turn out to be quite reducible. — Don’t get upset, my darling, but I cannot attribute the slightest importance to these monetary expenses. None of this constitutes an event — as does, for example, disease, marriage, birth, death, acquired knowledge, good or bad behaviour, the good or bad habits of people near and dear to us — but this is our own life-style which we ourselves have constructed in this manner and are free to reconstruct some other way or in a hundred different ways. — I know that this is often unbearably tiresome for you — and always for the children ([you all] think you are aware of all this) — to hear me say this, but I can’t help repeating that the happiness or unhappiness of all of us cannot depend even a whit on whether we lose everything or become rich, but only on what we ourselves are. So, if Kosten’ka³⁰⁶ is left a million, will that make him any happier? — To avoid that sounding like a banality, we need to look at life more broadly, more extensively. — Whatever form our life together (yours and mine) takes, along with our joys and sorrows, that will also shape the actual lives of our nine children.³⁰⁷ And so it is essential to help them obtain what has given us happiness, and help spare them what has brought us unhappiness; but neither [foreign] languages, nor academic degrees, nor society, nor less money, has played any part in our happiness or unhappiness. And so I can’t [let] the question of how much we spend occupy my [thought]. If I attach importance thereto, it will overshadow what is really important.

On the envelope: Moscow. Khamovniki. Countess S. A. Tolstaya. Private house.

Nº 104 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/287]
12 December 1884. Yasnaya Polyana.

I haven’t had much sleep — my liver hurts, but [I’m] in a good, cheerful and writing mood. I did a lot of writing³⁰⁸ and, as usual, the deeper into the woods, the thicker it gets. Everything grows and develops, and becomes more interesting (for me). — I did start out for a walk, but [because of] the rain and wind I turned back. I was going to take a nap, but I couldn’t sleep and read ’til the evening. At Bibikov’s, a while back, I had met a young doctor³⁰⁹ in place of Kholevinskaja,³¹⁰ who told me about a book³¹¹ on prostitution and syphilis in Russia, and now he’s sent it to me. The [arguments in the] book [are] quite rational. It’s frightening, wretched, pitiful and upsetting. It’s so easy and simple to live a good life and avoid all those horrors whereby we ruin [not only] ourselves (it wouldn’t be so bad to ruin only one’s self, if one wanted it) but others as well.

Around 5 o’clock I went to the village to see Pëtr Osipovich,³¹² [as well as] the new teacher³¹³ — to ask him to do some transcribing — along with Sergej Rezunov.³¹⁴ [When I’m] with the muzhiks and in conversation with them I feel rather lonely; I feel they are incapable of understanding me, but not to the same degree as with Professor Kovalevskij³¹⁵ and many others. Pëtr Osipovich greatly surprised me. Without any prompting on my part he began to tell me he doesn’t go to daytime mass, since the deacon keeps referring to the tsars and [the Empress] Marija Fëdorovna. [In the church they pray] for the health [of the Imperial Family]. They already look pretty well-fed, yet you’re supposed to pray for their health to make them look even more well-fed — and [he says] the same thing about the Tsar [himself]. [The Tsar] has so much on his plate, they say, and just look how fat he’s got ’cuz of this ‘plate’! And so I changed the subject.

By your letters³¹⁶ I see that you’re not in the best of spirits — not that you’re angry or sad, but in a lackadaisical and superficial mood. And you yourself are feeling discontented, and that’s a shame. However, you change so often that perhaps tomorrow’s letter will be quite different. — As to my return, I wrote to you saying that if [Leonid Dmitrievich] Urusov comes on the 16th, I shall spend a day with him and [then] come. Whether it’s good or bad, my situation is different from others’ in that interaction with certain kindred spirits — and Urusov is one of them — is especially dear to me. — Are there any letters addressed to me which need answering?

Farewell, darling. I’m going to have some tea and go to bed. Hugs and kisses to you and the children. Today I sold the hinny.³¹⁷ I hope that none of the children will feel disappointed. Otherwise it would keep on eating as much food as a cow.

The trunk is safe³¹⁸ — Marija Afanas’evna and I are keeping watch, along with [the dog] Bul’ka. Regards to Mme Seuron. I would say she’s exerting a harmful influence on you, and today the thought crossed my mind that she might be doing this deliberately because she doesn’t like you. All that flattery of outward appearance can be frightfully contaminating. I liken this to flattery of [my] writing; when you give into it, it seems as though you’re getting weaker and dumber. Write something good. I don’t mean write lies, — but I mean I very much want you to be in good spirits. I would advise you to get treatment and follow it strictly for at least a month, and then you can decide. The worst thing would be no decision at all.

Pity that Tanja doesn’t write [to me]. Even if she could just describe her ball gown,³¹⁹ I could at least deduce a little about her mental state. — Oh, how wretched! How come Iljusha sleeps all the time? He was doing that even when I was there. That’s not good. — If this letter seems disjointed or gloomy, chalk it up to my liver complaint and be forgiving.

My liver complaint has now become better towards evening.

On the envelope: Moscow. Dolgokhamovniki Lane. Count Tolstoy’s house. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 105 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 125]
13 December 1884. [Moscow]

You make excuses at the end of your letter³²⁰ as to why it is gloomy and not good. No, it is very good. There’s something in there that makes me look back at myself and regret that [my life] has been going downhill as I approach old age. Indeed, it’s strange. Everyone regards me as the pillar of the family, as firm, as “une femme vertueuse”,³²¹ but I myself feel weak, frivolous, half-crazy and ready for any — even the most senseless — extremes.

I am not affected by Madame [Seuron]’s flattery. I know her, and now at times it seems that she flatters me on the one hand so that she can flirt with you on the other. If this latter can be confirmed, then elle aura affaire à moi, and I pity her in advance, for in my half-crazed state I can’t guarantee anything [as to my actions]. But again, that’s one of those senseless things; I still like Madame; she is kind and intelligent, but life has spoilt her. — I’m sorry to hear about your liver complaint, but I’m really happy about your mood, and I’m afraid of destroying it with this crazy time of holidays, which always have a worldly and melancholy effect upon us oldsters.

Do whatever is best for you and take care of your soul and your health. You are needed and cherished by everyone in the world, and don’t pay any attention to me, I am not worthy of it — insignificant, stupid and feeble-minded creature that I am.

Today Alësha took ill with something, ran a fever night and day, won’t eat anything and is quite listless. It may be just the flu, as with everyone else. Today I had visitors: Dmitrij Fëdorovich Samarin, Count Kapnist,³²² and the Obolenskijs³²³ (from Krivo-Nikol’skij Lane); they interrupted Lëlja’s music lesson, which was very sad. Still, he [was able to use the time] practising skating in the garden. Andrjusha and Masha have also learnt to skate; they can now stand and move on skates and are very brave, and Lëlja is cheering them on. This past while Lëlja’s become very good and easy [to get along with] and does his lessons on time. Il’ja hasn’t been sleeping for two days now and instead, sharpens cigarette-holders and match-holders on a lathe.

Serëzha comes home from university and promptly sits down at the piano. Tanja has again been copying [a painting], and tomorrow goes to the Beklemishevs for her first [art] lesson.³²⁴ I’ll be dropping by to pick her up after one o’clock. Since my visit to the doctor I haven’t gone out anywhere; it’s been very painful; today it’s a little better. I’ve been writing and writing without a break and now I don’t know what else to say. You ask me to write good things, but I can’t really — my head, heart and soul are empty! Wouldn’t such a condition result from potassium bromide? — Last night I couldn’t get any sleep until past three — there was a ringing and cracking [in my head], along with horror and fear. Finally the sounds took on a specific character of furniture being moved in your room. Then I leapt up, I experienced some kind of frightening panic attack; I awoke Dunjasha³²⁵ and said “We’d better go see if there’s an intruder!” Dunjasha crossed herself, groaned and sighed, but went ahead of me with a candle. We took a look around — there was nobody there, of course.

I was ashamed and sorry to have woken Dunjasha, but I was still fearful after that. Still, I continue to sleep alone, upstairs, to overcome my [frightened] self. Yes, I need to overcome and keep overcoming myself to be better and stronger.

Farewell, dear Lëvochka. Tanja and Masha have gone to Uncle Serëzha’s, and nobody’s written to you today. I’m sending along Chertkov’s³²⁶ letter, the only one that has come while you’ve been away. Hugs and kisses.

Sonja.

Nº 106 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/289]
13 December 1884. Yasnaya Polyana.

I’ve just written a letter on a postcard³²⁷ — I started well but ended poorly, so I’m not sending it, and am now writing on paper so that this doesn’t happen again. It happened in connection with Lëlja’s letter,³²⁸ which I was really happy about. I can just imagine that everyone’s after him for this — i.e. that he has something to say to me and he knows just how to say it, and he knows how to say it in such a way that I feel he’s close to me, that he knows that all his interests are close to mine, and that he knows or wants to know what my interests are. — I shan’t say more, so that I don’t have to tear up this letter, too.

I got up early this morning and got down to work early, and have been working now for five hours straight, and did a lot of crossing-out, but whether there’s any sense in this crossing-out or not — I don’t know. But that’s not true: I know there is, and so my soul feels light. How different all other people’s lives might have turned out, and how much happier they themselves would have been, if only they had set as their goal the creation of something that wasn’t there [before] — something good and needful, rather than [mere] pleasure. In fact there is no other real pleasure than that which results from creation. You can create pencils, and boots, and bread, and children — i.e. human beings, and thoughts which feed these human beings. Without some kind of creation there is no real pleasure — i.e. [no real] pleasure unmixed with fear, suffering, pangs of conscience or shame; and the more important the creation, the greater the pleasure. Thus it is with us, adults and oldsters; for children and young people creation is replaced for the most part by the acquisition of knowledge or skills. This is true of oldsters as well. But the oldsters have a large proportion of creations, and a small [proportion] of acquisition of knowledge and skills, while with the young it’s the other way round. However, when this is replaced by seeking pleasure and the taste for creating things and the acquisition of knowledge and skills is lost, then this is not a joke, but perdition.

I remember my youth and remember that I went through periods like that, but they were short periods, exceptions, times that have been completely erased from my memory, of which any memory I have is accompanied by [a sense of] loathing. I later remembered the words of Ermolova,³²⁹ an erstwhile beauty with a small patch on her nose — how she assured me that I would dance with her right through my youth (which I don’t remember), but mainly her words: il faut que [la] jeunesse se passe. People who in their vieillesse have not outlived their jeunesse love to repeat these words. These words are probably said by Grushen’ka Obolenskaja,³³⁰ Uncle Serëzha and Uncle Kostja. [La] jeunesse se passe safely when there is vieillesse — I don’t know how to put it — which is doing its job; but when oldsters themselves ‘turn up their toes’ — i.e. when they give themselves over to vanity, idleness and luxury, then where is jeunesse going to end up? That is not good, and, most importantly, it is not true. And the oldster who tells young people what he sees with his elderly mind and talks seriously to young people, no matter how unpleasant it may be for the young people, that oldster probably has a far greater love for and understanding of young people than [all] the Grushen’kas, Ermolovas, uncles and [Sergej Semënovich] Urusovs, as though out of some common interests with young people they were frolicking with them.

I received your letter³³¹ this morning. I hope that you will receive [this one] in just as timely [a fashion], and that it will be just as important for you as it is for me. Each time I have noticed that I hold your letter in abeyance for a period of time and choose a [specific] time for reading it. This is more important for me than for you. Your letters reflect not only your mental state, but that of the children, too — [the ones] at home. Of course I may be mistaken, but I use your letter[s] (as though they were a thermometer) to follow the moral temperature of the family — has it gone up or down? — Your letter today was good, but the temperature, I see, has fallen somewhat and continues to stay at a low level. — After work I rode over to Yasenki. The weather’s pleasant: calm, [snow] melting, fog. I came back, spent time in the bathhouse and am now reading the Gospel in Hebrew,³³² and I want to go to bed earlier [than normal]. —

Farewell, dear friend, hugs and kisses to you and the children. — I shall come Sunday, if nothing happens [in the meantime]. — Why did my railway carriage so displease you? This carriage is a reflection of Moscow [itself] — here all in a compact form.³³³

I’m afraid that this letter, too, is not good and will have an unpleasant influence on you. If so, please forgive me. Give Lëlja a big kiss from me. How are the four little ones³³⁴ getting on?

On the envelope: Moscow. Dolgokhamovniki Lane. Count Tolstoy’s house. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 107 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/297]
2 February 1885. Yasnaya Polyana.

This morning, Friday, I received your latest letter.³³⁵ It’s a little better, perhaps, and I’m a little better; but it has lessened my longing for you. — I spent the whole day at home — writing, reading, and quietly sitting and thinking. In the evening I walked to the village to see Nikolaj Ermilovich³³⁶ to shame him on account of the debt he refuses to pay, and to Kostjushka,³³⁷ and to Ganja the thief.³³⁸ There’s a miserable creature for you, hunted down by people and so turned nasty — alone with three children.

I have been having a lot more impressions of poverty and suffering. I see them always and everywhere, but it’s easier to spot them in the countryside. Here you see everything down to the last detail. And you see both the cause and the means. And I love it — not actually love it, but feel good — when I can clearly see my own situation amidst other people’s.

Judging by what you wrote about Garshin,³³⁹ I don’t regret not having seeing him. On the whole, I’m obliged to see so many people in Moscow that the fewer I see the easier it is on me. It always seems that they don’t need me at all. —

I am reading [George] Eliot’s³⁴⁰ Felix Holt. A first-class work. I had read it [before], but back when I was very stupid, and I’d completely forgotten. Here’s something that needs to be translated, if it hasn’t been already. A job for Tanja. I haven’t finished it yet, and I’m afraid the ending will be disappointing. It was given to me by my brother Serëzha. Tell him it’s all true what he told me about this book — it’s all there. This is the second time I’m praising from the country a book he recommended.³⁴¹ —

In front of me lies a note from a widow who was here today. She has no home, no land — her husband was a soldier at the Grumont barracks. She was left a widow at age 32 with 8 children — the eldest was 11. — When I began to write [about her], for a long time I couldn’t understand — it turns out [these included] one set of twins. The lieutenant³⁴² has offered her a corner of a room for the winter.

Tomorrow I shall go to Tula and try to see what can possibly be done for her.

I’m taking this letter to Kozlovka — and shall tremble as I open the [next] one from you. How is your health? Judging by your letters, you’re not doing very well. How is Misha³⁴³ and the whole house?

Yesterday I was regretting our temporary absence of love. A consequence of this is a lack of clarity in our mutual aspirations. I told you that if you want me to come back, write to me and I’ll come at once — and not through pressure, but with genuine joy that I can fulfil your desires. But you haven’t written anything, or [at least] nothing definite.

Farewell, my darling. Hugs and kisses to you and the children.

L.

Urusov is much better than in Moscow. He has to take care of himself, and he is taking care of himself, but I see that in taking care of himself in this way he might live a long time.

Just now at Kozlovka I received your thoroughly kind letter³⁴⁴ and I am heading home calm and happy. You have called me, and so I shall come on Monday [4 February]. —

On the envelope: Moscow. Khamovniki, Count Tolstoy’s house. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 108 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 127]
[21 February 1885. St. Petersburg]

I’m very sad [to hear] that you’re not healthy, dear Lëvochka. If I’d known that you were getting worse, I wouldn’t have gone.³⁴⁵ Please, take care of yourself, don’t go outdoors and don’t catch cold.

As for Madame Seuron, I can only say I feel genuinely sorry for her, but I’d stake my life on the [diagnosis] that she has intermittent fever, and that I could cure her in three days. Ask her or you yourself write to [Dr.] Chirkov,³⁴⁶ asking him to give her quinine. It is pitiful to see people perishing on account of stubbornness and moral weakness. After all, she might end up God knows where. When Misha had typhoid fever, his temperature did not fall below 39º the whole time without exception, and here this morning she was [only] 37.2.

Anyway, this morning I got up at 10 o’clock, my sleep was bad and very fitful. I received a letter from Urusov,³⁴⁷ his [chest condition] is worse again, and he is leaving on the 26th. Then Lukovnikov³⁴⁸ came; he brought all the money [he owed] and ordered 500 more Primers [Azbuki], for which he paid as well. Altogether today he behaved himself in a very polite and gentleman-like manner. According to [your] letters, I ordered samples of paper and type, made a variety of appointments, and starting tomorrow I shall receive [visitors] between 11 and 1 o’clock. Then I went with Tanja to see relatives. I found Polivanova³⁴⁹ at home — she is sending something in a letter to Uncle Kostja — either money or tender words on paper — I don’t know, it’s sealed. I also found Kiriakova³⁵⁰ along with Madame Shostak³⁵¹ at home, but not Alexandrine;³⁵² I shall try again on Saturday; she’s fasting. Contrary to my expectation, I really liked Mme Shostak.

Here I am sitting and chatting with her, and suddenly someone calls out “The Empress!”³⁵³ I say: “Find a spot where I can see her.” Ekaterina Nikolaevna jumps up like an arrow and cries “My stick, quickly!” (she has a game leg and walks with a stick), then turns to me [and says]: “Sofie, restez,” and off she runs. I wait; my daughter Tanja is here, along with Vera Shidlovskaja,³⁵⁴ and Sofa Islen’eva.³⁵⁵ We waited and waited, all at once there was a hum, some noise, and people crying out: “She’s coming!”. A lady sweeps by carrying a musical notebook, and says in passing: “L’impératrice fera une visite à Madame Schostak.” We were taken aback at first, but before long a whole procession passed in front of us. I thought that this was the end of it, but Ekaterina Nikolaevna called out to me: “Sofie, venez et Tanja”. I went over to her, and she presented me to the Empress, then she called Tanja and at this point I said “ma fille”. I can say in all honesty that I was greatly excited, but did not lose my composure. She, i. e., the Empress asked [me]: “Il y a longtemps que vous êtes arrivée?” I say: “Non, Madame, depuis hier seulement.” Then we went into the grand hall. The Empress again turned to me [and said]: “Votre mari se porte bien?” I say: “Votre Majesté est bien bonne, il se porte bien.” “J’espère qu’il écrit quelque chose.” I say: “Non, Madame, pas en ce moment, mais je crois qu’il se propose d’écrire quelque chose pour les écoles, dans le genre de ‘What men live by’ [Chem ljudi zhivy]”. Ekaterina Nikolaevna interrupted, saying: “Il n’écrira jamais des romans, il l’a dit à la comtesse Alexandrine Tolstoy.” The Empress says: “Est-ce que vous ne le désirez point, cela m’étonne.” And she turned to me. I say to her: “J’espère que les enfants de sa Majesté ont lu les livres de mon mari.” She nodded her head, saying: “Oh, je crois bien.” Then she sat down, the singing began, and soon she left. — I can see you all saying: “Well, Mamasha’s had quite an adventure.” But truly, it’s the last thing I expected in Petersburg. Now I’m going with Tanja to a concert, and from there in the evening to Shostak’s — a reception she’s having. I didn’t find Orzhevskaja³⁵⁶ at home.

The Empress was precious, tired-looking [face], but[–]³⁵⁷

Nº 109 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/300]
22 February 1885. Moscow.

This morning I received your note.³⁵⁸ Everything here is quite fine, in spite of your dream. The little ones are doing splendidly, both physically and morally. And the older ones are good, too. — Iljusha has now reconciled with his teacher.³⁵⁹ I slept well, but I still have the flu; I am reading my George.³⁶⁰ Tell Sasha³⁶¹ that he should read it if he has the time. It’s an important book. In the path of community life it is a step equal in importance to the liberation of the peasants — [i.e.] the liberation from owning land as private property. One’s views on this subject constitute a test for human beings. And one must read George, who has put this question clearly and definitively. After reading him one cannot [simply] shilly-shally, one has to declare for one side or the other. My demands are much more far-reaching than his; but it is the first step on the ladder I’m climbing.

In the evening I sewed boots — it didn’t go well, the children were with me.

In the morning they went for a walk, in spite of their stomachs, and came back happy and healthy. Then Marakuev³⁶² came. Masha asked [me for my permission to go] to Uncle Serëzha’s to listen to Lopatin³⁶³ [performing live]. I had a cup of tea, fetched my big fur coat and went with Ma-ra-ku-ev — first to the Olsuf’evs,³⁶⁴ to get from her [Anna Mikhajlovna] the manuscript of The teachings of the Twelve Apostles [Uchenie dvenadtsati apostolov],³⁶⁵ and give it to Marakuev. He hopes to get it through the censors and publish it. Then I stopped by [Uncle] Serëzha’s for Masha. The singing had just begun and [so] I brought her and Lëlja home at one o’clock. I didn’t catch cold and tomorrow I should be quite recovered. There was a letter for you from Varvara Dmitrievna Urusova.³⁶⁶ Hugs and kisses to you and [our daughter] Tanja, as well as the dear Kuzminskijs. I trust them more now that you are with them; otherwise they might as well be in New Zealand.

On the envelope: St. Petersburg. 75. Nevskij [Prospekt]. For S. A. Tolstaya c/o A. M. Kuzminskij.

Nº 110 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/301]
22 February 1885. Moscow.

Today, Friday, I received your letter about your meeting with the Empress.³⁶⁷ Your luck is truly amazing. This is something you really wanted, after all. For me it was flattering for my vanity, but actually rather disturbing. No good will come of it. I remember that in Pavlovsk there was a man who always sat in the bushes and warbled like a nightingale. I once struck up a conversation with him and right away from the unpleasant tone of his voice I could tell that someone of the royal family had been talking with him. Be careful the same doesn’t happen to you. Yesterday I was ill, but today I feel much better, although still by no means normal. I can’t write. I keep reading George and have grown a lot wiser. The children are all healthy and good — Masha will write about them [in a postscript]. Orlov³⁶⁸ came to see me in the evening, then Shirkov,³⁶⁹ and we sat [talking] until 2 o’clock [in the morning]. [Uncle] Kostja was here in the morning; Lëlja had just read your letter and said right away upon meeting him: ‘“Mama talked with the Empress.” Without a moment’s hesitation, Kostin’ka said: “Now I can die. ‘Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace’.”³⁷⁰ Hugs and kisses to you and the dear Kuzminskijs. Why did you not tell [the Empress] what I am writing, but [instead you said] that I’m not writing? You got shy. Well, farewell. I am starting to count the days until you return.

Nº 111 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 128]
[22 February 1885.] Friday evening [St. Petersburg]

Dear Lëvochka, perhaps God sent you the flu so that you could be with your children. Thank you for taking care of yourself and not venturing outdoors. But these constantly repeating bouts of flu you suffer have come from your gathering wood for the stove. You go out in the cold, then you sit by the fire and then again you go outdoors — that’s very harmful. I hope you don’t do this when you are ill, or else you could also get pneumonia. You worry me most of all, and I am constantly thinking about you. Iljusha’s behaviour with his teacher upset me; he can exhibit incredible rudeness once he gets a mind to — I experienced this in his relations with me. Why aren’t any of you writing me about Lëlja? I hope everything’s fine with him.

Today I saw Chertkov;³⁷¹ he’ll be coming again tomorrow evening. I really liked him — so simple, friendly and, I would say, cheerful! I gave him the notebook. I haven’t seen Shakhovskoj³⁷² yet; his arm was once again out of joint and they had to break it and set it again, as they did with yours.³⁷³ Alexandrine³⁷⁴ wrote me that she would not be seeing me until Saturday, as she is fasting and today she is going to confession, which is very important to her. I shall go see her tomorrow. I still haven’t been able to do anything for the medical student. As to the books, there is clarification and progress taking place. I shan’t print them here, I’ll explain when I get home, but I’ll bring Stasjulevich’s³⁷⁵ estimate and paper samples with me for our consideration. I’m very comfortable with the Kuzminskijs; it seems I’m not much of a bother to them, and it’s easier and more joyful for Tanja when I am here to bear [the burden of] Misha’s illness along with her. I feel quite good and peaceful here, quite at home; only I miss you very much. Our daughter Tanja is spending the whole day today at the Shidlovskijs, going skating with Vera;³⁷⁶ she was at the Olsuf’evs’;³⁷⁷ they’re coming to see us tomorrow. Tanja (our daughter) is very cheerful and lively. I don’t know what [her] overall impression will be. Tomorrow we go to the Hermitage, and on Sunday to the Academy [of Arts] to see paintings. If you find it boring correcting the proofs,³⁷⁸ leave them for me. Farewell, my dove; everything’s in a mad rush here. Hugs and kisses.

Sonja.

Nº 112 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 133]
11 March [1885. Moscow]

I write to you every day, yet from you I’ve only received a postcard to date. Why aren’t you writing? I don’t know… as of now, have you left for the Crimea?³⁷⁹ Today I received the kindest letter³⁸⁰ from Chertkov. He asks me to send him the printer’s sheets of your article³⁸¹ which he brought me and says, for example: “I constantly think of you and your family as my relations, and close relations at that. Whether that’s good or bad, I don’t know. It seems to me that it’s good.”

How like him that is!

My Misha is still not well, though today he was on his feet. Last night and this morning he had no temperature, but now, as of 4 o’clock this afternoon, he has a temperature again: 38.7. Apparently, a fever. I gave him quinine twice, but it didn’t help. Now I’m not giving him anything; I’ll wait a couple more days. Tanja and Madame [Seuron] are slowly recovering, but they go out [just] a bit for walks and are eating a little more [than before].

I’ve just received your first letter from Djat’kovo.³⁸² Why did you all postpone your trip? That was not so nice for me; it prolongs your absence. Already now the days leading us to death are passing slowly, and what are they filled with? Emptiness and vanity. You probably left today. The day here has been fantastic; spring is coming with a great hurry; people have already [replaced the sleigh-runners] on their carriages with wheels, and water is pouring out from everywhere. Today I went out for a drive and happened to look at carriages for sale, but decided to put mine in for new wheels. Spring without a carriage is boring; without a carriage it’s not even worth keeping horses with such a large family. Then I went to see Liza Obolenskaja, but didn’t find her in; then I went to check on Khovrina’s [family]³⁸³ — [her daughter], the young Liza, is dangerously ill. Back at home I gave Andrjusha a lesson, and received the proofs of Childhood. Pity I don’t have the first edition here³⁸⁴ — it’s at Yasnaya. Proofreading your complete collected works, I feel, will turn my whole soul inside out. Your old writings have a fearsome effect on me, and I shall shed many tears as I correct the proofs. But I think this will be good [for my mental state].

Yesterday (Sunday) Uncle Serëzha came; he is kind and feels guilty in respect to his debt and to the gipsies. He was so dear and cheerful that I took to loving him again even more. We played Russian whist, two tables: Serëzha, Leonid,³⁸⁵ myself and Liza³⁸⁶ Olsuf’eva, and our own Serëzha made a fifth. And then the young ones played their own table. Just imagine, only Zolotarëv³⁸⁷ remained to sit and look on with interest. What a creature! Why is he in the world? Liza, Varja, Fet — none [of these] were there. Vasnetsov³⁸⁸ left early. Lopatin was planning to come and sing [for us], but he was ill. Still, we had a pleasant, fun time en famille. We didn’t do all that much playing, but over supper we had a good and fun chat.

Farewell for now, there’s nothing more to write. I have to finish the proofreading by morning, and there’s so much to do. Hugs and kisses to you, dear friend. It is strange to be writing to the Crimea and knowing that you have just left, — quite mind-boggling.

Take care, Lëvochka, in everything. Don’t take any risks at all, try to stay healthy and cheerful, also so you will have some good memories of your trip. My regards to the prince.³⁸⁹ How sorry I am for him! Why don’t you write and tell me what kind of mood he’s in.

Sonja.

Are you going to be back by the [Easter] holidays? Also, please do send me one telegram from the Crimea.

I’m very lonely without you; nobody’s around to love me. It’s so sad. I’d really like to be with you right now. This is the third letter [I’ve sent] to the Crimea.

Nº 113 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/314]
14 March 1885. Bajdary.

I am writing you another letter today, the 14th [of March]. One from Sevastopol’ — a postcard³⁹⁰ — I sent in the morning, and now [this one] is from Bajdary (it’s half-way to Simeiz). — We are feeding [our horses] here, and have run into a gentleman who is on his way to Moscow, who is feeding [his horse], too. It turned out to be Mr. Abrikosov the younger.³⁹¹ He recognised me and has read [my books], and his wife, too, whom he took to the Crimea, and I’m taking advantage of the fact that he will arrive before the post. The weather is marvellous — hot in the mountains through which we rode. Urusov hired a landau, but they put one over on him: it turned out the landau’s [roof] did not open, it was worse than a carriage, and I climbed up onto a trunk where the coachman’s seat was. As I rode, I can’t say that I was actually thinking, but a new order of thoughts, good thoughts, flowed in [to my head]. —

Here’s one of them: See! I’m alive, and can go on living! Still! How I would like to live out at least this last [part of my life] in God’s [way] — i.e. in a good way! It’s very silly, but it’s joyful to me. The flowers are blooming, and it’s hot even in just a shirt. The trees are bare, but fragrances blend together in the crisp spring air: limp leaves, human excrement, violets, and they all merge together. We rode through places that [during the war] seemed inaccessible, where there were enemy batteries, and, strange as it may seem, memories of the war actually join together with feelings of vigour and youth.³⁹² What if it were a memory of some folk celebration — a common cause — could there be such things? Right there on the coachman’s seat I thought [a story about] an English lord.³⁹³ And that’s good. And I also thought — while Urusov was sitting in the carriage and kept urging on the coachman and horses, and while I, sitting next to the coachman, felt love for both the coachman and the horses — how unhappy rich people are who don’t know either what they are riding on or what they live in (i.e. how their house is constructed), nor what they are wearing or eating. The muzhiks and the poor know all this, they appreciate it and take even greater delight in it. You can see that I am in a good, sprightly mood. If only I had some news about you and the children! Kisses to them all and a hug to you. Abrikosov’s been given [fresh] horses. He’s on his way.

L. T.

On the envelope: Moscow. Khamovniki, Count Tolstoy’s house. Countess S. A. Tolstaya.

Nº 114 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 140]
[18 August 1885. Moscow]

Another day has gone by, useless and wasted. Up to now the boys would just loaf about, but today, instead of studying on the eve of exams, they just staggered from corner to corner, as if deliberately intending to do absolutely nothing, and this only drove me to despair.

This morning I went to buy something to eat (everything’s closed on Sunday); I arrived to find two schoolmistresses; they had brought me two articles about you, Lëvochka. One was torn from Vestnik Evropy, the other copied from somewhere. In the latter it said that Ma Religion³⁹⁴ was having great success in Paris, and a whole sect of Tolstoïstes had been formed which was promulgating your teachings. Pity that two more [of your philosophical-religious] articles have not been translated [into French] — then there would have been more of a complete impression and understanding. I’ll now read these articles myself and bring them with me. The schoolmistresses also brought what they copied [i.e. the second one] from: Zakon i Gosudarstvo [Law and State],³⁹⁵ and asked for any more,³⁹⁶ which I have no idea where to find. — Then I went to see Ivantsov-Platonov.³⁹⁷ I was received by his daughter, 19 years old, a pupil of Fisher’s³⁹⁸ classical gymnasium — such a fine, clever girl. Then her father came. Apparently he had done practically nothing; he kept making excuses that there wasn’t time, but persevered in his opinion that [the work] must definitely be published. I asked him to hurry to make his remarks, and he promised. He also talked about the big work, saying it would be good to [publish] excerpts from it. I took— je l’ai pris au mot, but he vigorously began to make excuses that now was not the time, and there was no way he could do it, he was so busy.

He said that Pobedonostsev³⁹⁹ had ordered the papers to print articles by various people denouncing you and your teachings. But Solov’ëv,⁴⁰⁰ a teacher of law at the Katkov lycée, wrote such a silly article; you can’t help feeling pity for him as he only brought shame upon himself with his lack of understanding.

He talked to me a lot about what needs changing in your articles to make them fit to print; about your foreword, which he claims is necessary; about what to delete and how to change the titles and so forth.⁴⁰¹ He recommends publishing without going through the censorship board, but getting Feoktistov’s⁴⁰² promise in advance not to block it. He recommends, once the article is typeset and published in its final form, to definitely send a copy to Feoktistov and definitely go to Petersburg myself and personally make intervention. He recommends including your latest stories as a literary expression of your teachings. We’ll talk about all that in person; there’s no room to write it all out. But it’s good that I went to see him, or God knows how long this might be drawn out.

From Ivantsov’s I went to Mjasnitskaja Street, to see Alcide [Seuron].⁴⁰³ Unfortunately, he wasn’t at home. He had gone off somewhere, and nobody knew when he might be back, since Grade 7 and 8 students have the right to walk out without permission. The porter said that Alcide was quite healthy and wasn’t coughing. I asked for the headmaster — he is still at his dacha, and hasn’t come into the city. I went to see the inspector, but he had just gone down the front steps with his wife. What a pity! I wanted to do something about Mme Seuron’s request, but didn’t have the opportunity. Please pass all this along to her — avec mes saluts.

I came home; the three of us took dinner, and I went into the kitchen, boiled some vinegar, poured vinegar on the plums and Chinese apples, made some jam, and in general carried on [the tradition of] Ankovsky pie.⁴⁰⁴ Varvara Petrovna and Faddeevna⁴⁰⁵ and I still had a pleasant time together. [Then] the ever-beloved Kolichka Ge⁴⁰⁶ came into the kitchen and took a real interest in our [conversation]; my boys came, and despite my intensive urgings to them to get busy, they with equal intensity helped eat the plums. Then they went into the house and made Kolichka laugh so hard that he went completely bonkers and left. Then Uncle Kostja appeared in the kitchen window — he had come in today from Pirogovo. Everyone chatted together in the kitchen; eventually they took tea and dispersed… Il’ja and Lëlja went to finally go over their lessons, and I’ve now sat down to write.

Tomorrow morning I’ll go around the print-shops, examine the accounts as to the inventory and use of paper; I shall go to Salaev’s⁴⁰⁷ and find out whether a subscription could be announced; I shall go and collect some money from the books [already sold]. After that I shall concern myself with [our children’s] exams. Alësha’s sniffles are not a disaster, but he needs to take care of his throat, and colds in general can be dangerous for anybody. Why have we been invaded by so many guests?! It was never like this before. I still don’t know when I’ll come. Lëlja still cuddles up to me; I feel sorry about leaving him, even though he’s very unpleasant, fussy and lazy. How is everybody doing — the Kuzminskijs, Auntie Tanja, Uncle Sasha? How is my Tanja performing the role of mother and head of the household? It was very nice to receive [your] letter, and I am really looking forward to tomorrow’s. Hugs and kisses to all.

Sonja.

Nº 115 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/327]
12 October 1885. Yasnaya Polyana.

I am writing a letter⁴⁰⁸ to Masha, along with an order for books brought from Tula. I did a little work — almost nothing, and then I went out to saw [some wood] with Frey.⁴⁰⁹ And we did some wonderful work. Then we took dinner. Now I’ve just written a letter to Chertkov⁴¹⁰ and now I’m writing you. Fejnerman⁴¹¹ is engaged in a dispute with Frey; I’m listening with one ear and can tell that Fejnerman is winning, but I keep silent. Frey is such a precious, such a good person, that I feel bad about embarrassing him. In a couple of hours from now I’ll see him off, and take myself to the vault room, where I shall be sleeping [tonight]. I shall try to behave myself well in every respect — food, sleep and work — in the wisest possible way, so that I can work a little more, and I specifically want to finish my Ivan Ilyich.⁴¹² But in these affairs I know that it is least of all possible to expect everything to turn out the way I want it to.

Hugs and kisses to you and all the children. I forgot to affirm to Tanja and Masha that it would be pitiful if they abandoned what they started — namely, cleaning their rooms and vegetarianism⁴¹³ — in the sense of restraint. — Farewell, darling, until the next letter.

L. T.

Nº 116 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 143]
13 October 1885. [Moscow]

The letter I wrote you yesterday,⁴¹⁴ dear Lëvochka, has tormented me the whole day as though [I had committed] a crime. But it is so lonely here in Moscow without you, and I miss you so much that I was overcome by some kind of malicious despair. And I thought: I came to see my beloved sons and live with them and for them, and here they are spiteful, asking for money, and with hardly any love.

I came to do things. I thought that money was needed for them, for the children — they don’t want to know this; it’s as though my edition⁴¹⁵ and everything else is just a caprice, or fantasy of mine […]. But this is difficult and hurtful for me.

But my whole mistake is always the same: I want to be appreciated. And that is silly and bad. I get frustrated when they do not understand me and do not appreciate me, and with this attitude I am spoiling everything to such an extent that the scales are tipping to the side of evil. Now I’ve come to my senses somewhat. I shall do everything according to my conscience, and shall not think that I have the right to expect gratitude or silly appreciation from anyone. It will be calmer and better this way. And I ask you to please be calm, love me and support me without condemnation, if you can.

Today I received [another] letter⁴¹⁶ from you, and it was a pleasant one, but I’m annoyed that you are encouraging the girls to be vegetarians. Two [kinds of] soup, special vegetables — all that has to be prepared, and it is hard for a mother not to feed her children. Ever since Tanja sucked on my breast, I can’t get away from the desire to feed her better and more substantially. I can’t stop them from preparing special dishes, but it is more expensive and more challenging.

[Also] today [I have] six printer’s sheets to proofread; I spent the whole day reading [them] by myself. Now Serëzha, along with Nikolaj Nikolaevich Ge [Jr], is reading two sheets for a second time, but all of them: Serëzha, Treskin,⁴¹⁷ Il’ja and Ge are off to the theatre, while Tanja and I will be reading the other four sheets. Ge lives for art; he rented a room for 20 silver roubles a month where his daughter⁴¹⁸ could board [while attending school]. Alcide is here. The boys and the younger ones have been skipping rope and running in the garden. I didn’t see much of them during the day, I was busy the whole time with proofreading. [The governess] Miss Gibson has gone off to see relatives or friends. It’s very difficult for me these days, especially since I’m tired; last night I got to sleep after two o’clock in the morning, and this morning I was awakened at seven.

I still haven’t unpacked anything or put things away — there’s simply been no time. The girls have tidied up their room and moved everything around. They, too, are bored here in Moscow and long for their life at Yasnaya Polyana.

I’ll be urging Masha to get down to her studies soon. Tanja’s now mature enough to choose her own pathway in life for herself. The Beklemisheva lady came to see her, and warmly invited her to visit; she’ll be going there tomorrow.

[I] really need to be here to see to [the 5th] edition. I received a letter from Mamontov’s⁴¹⁹ printshop that Kuvshinov’s⁴²⁰ has no more paper. This really surprised me. I worry we may have more delays as a result. Starting tomorrow morning I’ll go and attend to all these things, I’ll find out everything [I can], settle and clarify everything. I shall take The story of a horse⁴²¹ and the articles with me. Today is Sunday; I wasn’t able to do anything today.

I’m glad you’ve moved into the ‘vault room’.⁴²² It’s good in there. But you should have the chimney cleaned, so that [soot] doesn’t clog up the chimney; it hasn’t been cleaned for a long time. Here in Pljushchikha [Street], on the very day of our arrival, eight people were burned to death [in a chimney fire], including a nanny and a child.

Well, farewell, dear friend. Now I shan’t write any more bad letters. God grant that you stay healthy; I was so glad to hear you’re writing Ivan Ilyich. God help you. Hugs and kisses.

Sonja.

I ruined your whole day with my letter yesterday! Oh how ashamed and how sorry I am! I am kissing your dear, kind eyes. I can see them right this moment, and I regret that I shan’t see them for a long time.

Nº 117 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 147]
21 October [1885. Moscow]

Kramskoj⁴²³ was just here and was very sorry not to find you [at home]. People like him are like a light shining amidst the gloom and darkness. He sat with us for about an hour: Serëzha, Masha and Tanja were present and also took part in the conversation, then he left for an artists’ meeting. He came from Petersburg specifically to discuss various questions about the exhibit, and to renew and reinforce the old rules of this society of artists. A clever fellow, indeed, and he understands everything — what a charm!

Just now I read Serëzha’s letter.⁴²⁴ Very disjointed — he’s not delicate. He writes: “Mamà is offended that you are not interested in her publication activities”. How can he so misunderstand his own family! How can I be offended if others are not interested in something that does not interest me in my heart at all?! I finish what I have started, and always get deeply involved in everything, as in this. — I might be offended if you were not interested at all in the children or in me, in our inner life, our sorrows and joys; I might be saddened by the fact that when you are living together with the family, you are more distant than when we are not together… Now all this is sad, and if we can’t heal it, then we have to try to live with it. And I am making some headway in this and am getting a bit accustomed to it. We have not left you, but you have left us. [We] can’t hold on to [you] by force. — You often forget that you’re ahead of Serëzha, for example, in life by 35 years; ahead of Tanja and Lëlja, for example, by 40, and you want them all to race ahead and catch up to you. That’s a misunderstanding. I, on the other hand, see how they walk, fall, stagger, stumble, and again cheerfully pursue the path of life, and I try to lend a helping hand here and hold back there, and keep a watchful eye out so that they don’t stray off somewhere where they could have an irreversible failure. — How far my skill and ability extend [in this matter], well, that’s another question. But as long as I am alive and am still of sound mind, I shall never say that I am distant from my family, and could never accept the thought that I am distant from my children, even though I live with them in the same house. — So this is what has irritated me, and not [your] lack of interest in Kuvshinov’s paper.

Farewell. Pity that you are having liver complaint and that you’re not working.

Sonja.

Nº 118 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 148]
[22 October 1885. Moscow]

Today is Liza Obolenskaja’s name day and the day of the [icon] Our Lady of Kazan [Kazanskaja Bogomater’] and we are all spending the evening at the Obolenskijs’. The boys are also enjoying some free time, but Il’ja has been quite busy all day writing some sort of composition; Lëlja’s playing the piano, and was reading [earlier]; Alcide [Seuron] is here. The three little ones,⁴²⁵ too, were at the Obolenskijs’ this morning and had some hot chocolate. Tanja’s finger is hurting, and she wants to go to the doctor’s again. I spent the whole morning before dinner poring over records, accounts and papers. I did some transcribing for The Decembrists [Dekabristy], A confession [Ispoved’] and also proofread The story of a horse [Strider / Kholstomer] and Two old men [Dva starika].

The publication is moving ahead slowly; there’s still no paper. I looked over A confession, and a fear came over me that I shan’t be successful at the Censorship Board, but that they’ll send me to the Religious censors, and there’s little hope there. Still, it is worth trying, and I’m going to keep trying as long as I can. Today I was sitting in the dining-room when all at once I saw before me Mlle Sof’ja Fominichna Brandt.⁴²⁶ She frightened us. She, poor thing, is in such a bad way; she says that Golosova,⁴²⁷ the director of the lunatic asylum, locked her away, and I appeared to her to be this same Golosova; she didn’t recognise me. Later she found out from the registry office where the Obolenskijs were, and she went to see them and frightened them. I offered her breakfast, [but] she put on a ferocious face, refused everything and hurried off.

Today I received a letter from Tanja; she’s very happy and is still planning on doing some writing, [an activity] she’s quite fond of.⁴²⁸

I’m losing my eyesight, and that upsets me. I’m writing, but I can’t see clearly what I’m writing — this is what it’s come to! — Our life is boring, burdensome and unsatisfying. It’s never happened to me up to now, but I haven’t tidied up and haven’t got the drawing room or the other rooms in order. Everything’s jumbled together in a heap and [the stoves] are not stoked. You’d better give me notice if you are coming, so we can stoke [the stoves ahead of time]. There’s no place upstairs either to sleep or sit anywhere but the salon.

They promise [to deliver fresh] paper on Saturday. Next week they’ll print the end of The Cossacks [Kazaki], also The Decembrists and the beginning of Volume 12, and again, the week after, they’ll typeset the articles.⁴²⁹ So then I’ll go to Petersburg — that means, in two weeks. If you need to, and if you are healthy and fine, you can stay on at Yasnaya another ten days, after which I would ask you to come at least for the time I’m away; I’m afraid to leave the children alone without at least one of us. Has your liver complaint passed? Where are you staying and what are you writing? There’s been no letter yet [from you] today; perhaps one will still come.

Farewell, dear friend, hugs and kisses to you. Perhaps your time of mental exhaustion has passed, and you are working again — and consequently happy. We here, thank God, are all healthy and getting along well.

S.

22 October.

Today the whole Tolstoj family⁴³⁰ are moving here.

Nº 119 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/336]
23 October 1885. Yasnaya Polyana.

In both your recent letters, dear friend, I can detect a hint of irritation at me over what I wrote in my letter to Tanja.⁴³¹ Why get irritated and accusatory, and say that it is irredeemable? Everything is redeemable, especially one’s views on life. As long as we live, we are constantly changing; we can change, thank God, and draw closer and closer to the truth. This is the only thing I desire for myself and my family, for you and the children, and not only am I not disheartened in this, but I believe that we shall come together, if not in my lifetime, then afterwards. If I wrote that we live together but at a distance, though it may be true, it is exaggerated, and I shouldn’t have written that, as it’s equivalent to a reproach. I consider reproaches worse than anything else and I take [my words] back. — I did miss one day⁴³² of writing to you, and I apologise for that, too. It’s hard on me, too, when I don’t write, when there’s something I should have done but didn’t.

Yesterday I wrote a few words and said that my side was hurting. It was hurting, but that’s all passed now, and I am very cheerful and healthy, and am again doing a lot of work. Now I’ve almost glimpsed the end of my article.⁴³³ I’ve decided that, as long as I don’t get too worried about all of you, I shall finish it here, which may take [another] three days. — When you write me about your life, I talk it over [with you]; I don’t always approve of your impulsiveness; but when you don’t write [me] anything, like today, that is annoying and painful for me. Please do write. — Fejnerman has been dismissed,⁴³⁴ and a new teacher has already arrived. I don’t know what he’s going to do, but he wants to stay living in the village with Konstantin,⁴³⁵ and transcribe [Tolstoy’s drafts]. If you find any volunteers [to transcribe] What then must be done?, give me [their names].

Thanks to Serëzha for his letter.⁴³⁶ There was no need for him to criticise it as disjointed. As to Lëlja, we all know what kind of a correspondent he is. Hugs and kisses to them all. Here are the events of my day: I get up when it’s dark. And it’s the same right now. After tidying up, I went to fetch some water [with a barrel on a horse-drawn wagon]. That’s a great pleasure. But sitting on the barrel, I began to think about the division of labour,⁴³⁷ which was fine. But when it came time to fill [the barrel], I suddenly realised I didn’t have a pail, and so I went to fetch a pail, and [headed to the well] once again. Upon my return, I obtained a pood of whole wheat flour from Filip, and began kneading it according to Frey’s method, and the pancake-shaped loaf turned out to be quite tasty. Later, after taking coffee with Fejnerman and Aleksandr Petrovich,⁴³⁸ I got down to work and sat there working from 9 to 2. Then I had dinner: borshch and a marvellous oat kissel. Then I rode over to Bibikov’s to find out about Fejnerman’s salary, and then to Kozlovka to fetch letters — I got yours⁴³⁹ as well as one from Chertkov.⁴⁴⁰ Tomorrow I’ll post [a letter] myself. I’m sorry to have missed Kramskoj. Farewell, dear friend. In any case, if I’m still alive, I’ll be there soon. — I’m not disheartened, and I’m terribly eager to finish Ivan Ilyich, and now as I was riding along I kept thinking about him. I can’t express [in words] to you how absorbed I am right now in this work which has gone on for several years and is now nearing completion. I have to clarify things for myself which were unclear before, and put aside a whole raft of questions, as happened with me [earlier] with the theological questions.

Don’t get angry, my darling; be kind and friendly, the way I feel about myself in relation to you.

On the envelope: Moscow. Dolgokhamovniki Lane Nº 15. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 120 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/341]
20 November 1885. Moscow.

I wrote you [an earlier] letter today on a postcard, which will probably arrive a day ahead of this one. Yesterday I spent the whole day in Tanja’s room in the heat, and the whole day there were visitors: Stakhovich,⁴⁴¹ a notary, an agent,⁴⁴² then came Kolichka Ge along with Mjasoedov,⁴⁴³ later Verochka and Hélène;⁴⁴⁴ then [my brother] Serëzha; but unfortunately I didn’t get to see Serëzha, as I went to bed before 10 o’clock, and slept better. Now I’m completely recovered and I shan’t go out — you needn’t worry. — [Our son] Serëzha took the money and deposited [it]. Now it’s after 1 o’clock in the afternoon. Yesterday I received a letter which greatly concerned me — I am sending you a copy and I’m asking you very, very [urgently] to do something to relieve this remarkable man’s⁴⁴⁵ plight. Ask Sasha Kuzminskij’s advice on what to do. What actually can be done? — [One could] ask the war minister⁴⁴⁶ and the headquarters commandant⁴⁴⁷ to deal with Zaljubovskij according to the law — they have a law for so-called sectarians — Mennonites⁴⁴⁸ and others — who refuse military service on religious grounds. I am [also] thinking of asking [Aleksandra Andreevna] Tolstaja. We need to definitely put a word in for him — mainly so that the authorities are aware that this man’s situation and their treatment of him are known to the public at large. — I’m afraid that you have a lot on your plate, and that you will get upset with me for piling this matter on top of you. Here [in Moscow] I don’t know who to turn to. I’ll try Shuvalova.⁴⁴⁹ For some reason I trust Sasha⁴⁵⁰ will be able to help and instruct you.

I’ll add a postscript later this evening. I wrote Stasov⁴⁵¹ with a request to do something; I wrote Shuvalova⁴⁵² and Birjukov.⁴⁵³ Birjukov and Stasov may come and see you; you can show them the letter. If I knew where Mirskij⁴⁵⁴ was, I’d write to him. Couldn’t Sasha do something through Loris-Melikov?⁴⁵⁵ The main thing they need is to keep the matter out of the public eye. If they sent him to assist in a hospital, nobody would know about it; but now, if, God forbid, they torture him or execute him, it will backfire on them. —

A postscript late at night — I’ve been busy with all my letter-writing and copying Za-lju-bov-skij’s letter. I got Lëlja and Teplov⁴⁵⁶ (who came to play with him) to do the writing. Everything’s fine with us. My brother Serëzha was here this evening. I’m fine, but there is still [a sense of] malaise. — It’s my usual state of ill health. I received your postcard⁴⁵⁷ — thank you. Well, farewell, my darling. Don’t worry. Even if you don’t succeed in anything, that will take nothing from the happiness of your life. Hugs and kisses to the dear Kuzminskijs and please ask [your sister] Tanja to forgive me for not carrying out her request… to proofread.⁴⁵⁸ It’s a difficult [task].

Nº 121 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 156]
[21 November 1885. St. Petersburg]

Dear Lëvochka, Feoktistov was here just now,⁴⁵⁹ and I’m still very much concerned over this meeting and [my] conversations [with him]. My overall impression was a dismal one; he does not give me any opportunity to speak or present arguments; he is sending [me] to the Religious Censorship Board, and doesn’t want [me] to contact any authorities. The upshot was that he took the volume and promised to do what he could. But he made frequent reference to Pobedonostsev,⁴⁶⁰ and it appears that this is the whole source of the delay. Feoktistov promised he would give this volume to his chief censor to read and to look it over himself. This will be done by Sunday or Monday. Then he promised to take it personally to the Religious Censorship Board and possibly declare his opinion in my favour, and to give a reply pro or con by Tuesday or Wednesday. If the reply is that it is impossible, then I’ll go to Tolstoj,⁴⁶¹ etc. You see, dear friend, we need to arm ourselves with patience and wait. I’m doing very well here, but it is terribly hard without my family, without any activity, just concern and anticipation and worry over all of you. May God grant you all to be healthy and safe! It’s after two. I shall take the letter to the train myself, otherwise it won’t go out today, and that’s why once again I’m not writing much. I don’t go out at all; yesterday Strakhov⁴⁶² was here to dinner; he’s very sad, thin and pitiful-looking. You could at least write him some time — he likes you so much.

Still no letters from you, very sad. Today’s Thursday, and I left on Monday.

To our misfortune, a few days ago in Kiev they detained a whole gang of revolutionaries; they found a [clandestine] printshop and [texts of] all your works in [the hands of] these people. Of course that’s going to hurt my cause. What a shame! And here I thought these underground [revolutionaries] had dropped out of sight lately.

In any event I am not losing my strength, but it’s going to be difficult for me to stay here for long. Hugs and kisses to all of you, my friends, my children, my little ones.

S. T.

Feoktistov was in such a hurry and kept talking so much that I didn’t have a chance to tell him about the ‘tale’,⁴⁶³ and I didn’t give them the article about money⁴⁶⁴ which Birjukov brought to me. But [maybe] that’s for the better, not to overwhelm them all at once. As for the ‘tale’, will they understand right off what’s wrong? Maybe it’s best not to say anything about it.

Well, farewell. Hugs and kisses to you, dear Lëvochka. Strakhov yesterday cited a Russian proverb: Vsjakoe delo siden’em stoít [roughly equivalent to “They also serve who only sit and wait”].

And so I’m going to sit.

Nº 122 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/342]
21 November 1885. Moscow.

Today is a holiday,⁴⁶⁵ and the weather is beautiful. I got up early and spent the morning with the little ones. Sasha was taken out for a walk, and she was delighted, she’s terribly precious. Then I went to work and learnt that everybody had gone to the Patriarch Ponds,⁴⁶⁶ where they had a really good time [skating]. Alësha walked separately with Nanny, and Officer Le-va-shov⁴⁶⁷ drove him to a sweetshop and bought him candy. Il’ja, as always, was nowhere to be seen. He was either sleeping or out of the house. Now, I know, he’s at the Chernjavskoe⁴⁶⁸ to hear Ziloti⁴⁶⁹ [play]. Tanja, Masha and Serëzha are all there as well. I sent Tanja with a letter to Shuvalova⁴⁷⁰ about Zaljubovskij. Shuvalova was very nice to her and promised to write. A woman-teacher interfered (not exactly interfered, I was slow at [my own] writing [today]) with an essay [she claimed was] written by the spirit of Filaret⁴⁷¹ on religion (spiritualism). The essay is a strange one, but there’s a lot of good in it. Then I went to do a bit of sawing and wood-chopping (I didn’t go out in the morning), but I shouldn’t have — my health is still not good. They sent the proofs of just one printer’s sheet of the fourth book.⁴⁷² I complained to them that it had been a long time coming. I received your letter;⁴⁷³ I’m sorry you have a headache. You need to work with your head, only not like a German.⁴⁷⁴ Concerning [your sister] Tanja, I didn’t understand the phrase that everything is finished.⁴⁷⁵ It’s now 9 o’clock in the evening; Lëlja, Alcide, Mme Seuron and Uncle Kostja are sitting around, and I’m going to bed. Andrjusha is not behaving very well, but not terribly badly either. Misha is wonderful, as always. — I’ll leave this letter unsealed so that [our daughter] Tanja can add something.⁴⁷⁶ —

Please don’t fly off to the Tsar.⁴⁷⁷ Better not to go to see Tolstoj⁴⁷⁸ either. If they pass it at their own initiative, then we can do it, but otherwise you’ll only end up with a case of bad blood. — My general impression of the children: they’re all very precious to me, except for Iljusha and to a small extent Serëzha. Until [our] next letter, hugs and kisses to you and the dear Kuzminskijs. Tanja⁴⁷⁹ can write separately. I’ll send this letter to the post with Kosten’ka.

On the envelope: St. Petersburg. Nevsky [Prospekt] 75,1. Apt 12. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 123 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 157]
[23 November 1885.] Saturday 11 a.m. [St. Petersburg]

I just got up, dear Lëvochka, and I wanted to reply to your letter⁴⁸⁰ concerning Zaljubovskij. I received it yesterday, and Birjukov also received one and came to see me right away. I don’t feel at all disturbed, and I have lots of time, since I am waiting for them to read my volume. But we don’t know where or who to turn to. Alexandrine has been out of the country for two months now; the Shuvalovs⁴⁸¹ have gone to Spain to the king’s funeral;⁴⁸² Sasha [Kuzminskij] has absolutely no acquaintanceship with anyone in the military and doesn’t know what to say.

Birjukov and I have decided to seek out [Zaljubovskij’s] brother,⁴⁸³ an artilleryman-academic. They’ll be coming to see me today at one o’clock. From his brother we shall learn what has been done, and what still remains to be done — what steps to take. The only thing I can do — and will do — is to go and petition the war minister,⁴⁸⁴ while Birjukov will go ask Grand Prince Sergej Aleksandrovich.⁴⁸⁵ — It is difficult for me as your wife, as I am petitioning for the release of your works, to [also] petition for someone who has accepted these teachings. When I think of what I shall say to the minister or to whomever I ask, the only thing that comes to me is that I am asking because I have been requested to, and it is painful for me that this young man’s convictions, which are probably derived from your teachings of Christ, have not led to any good — i.e. not to the result you intended, but to the young man’s demise, and that is why I am asking to mitigate his fate. — This is the only thing I’ve thought of, but we shall see anon.

How is your health? Here we’ve had rain, thawing — such nasty [weather] that I am quite exhausted. Indoors it’s been 16, 17 degrees of dry air, which has given me constant asthma, pain in my side and sleeplessness from not being able to breathe, and my being all in a sweat. The Kuzminskijs are [so] accustomed to it, that Tanja and Vera⁴⁸⁶ are even having chills!

Yesterday I had lunch at Vera Aleksandrovna’s.⁴⁸⁷ Very tasty and very boring! In the evening the Kuzminskijs had relatives and guests over ([and a lot of] conversations!). I’m very tired — not from my activities, but from all the bustle. Today I’m going to ask on Nagornov’s⁴⁸⁸ behalf at the State Bank, then I shall go to the Public Library and to the Islavins,⁴⁸⁹ where I have not yet been. I shall have dinner and [spend] the evening at home, and take a bath. Tomorrow is St-Catherine’s Day, I have to go and congratulate Mme Shostak,⁴⁹⁰ but the rest of the time I shan’t be dragged out anywhere. The girls and I shall just go to the Academy [of Arts] and look at paintings. On Monday I am hoping that Feoktistov will respond, and how happy I would be if his answer is such that I am able to leave.

Have they sent you the proofs of the 4th Reader [Kniga dlja chtenija]? How are my [publishing] affairs? Has Nikolaj Mikhajlovich Nagornov sent you the insurance receipts?

What mood is Tanja in, depressed or happy? How are Il’ja and Lëlja doing in their studies? Is Andrjusha behaving himself and are the three younger ones healthy? Did Masha go to Chernjavskoe, and was it fun for her?

Hugs and kisses to you all. I’m waiting for [your] letters.

Nº 124 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/346]
15–18 December 1885. Moscow.⁴⁹¹

For the past seven or eight years all our mutual conversations have ended after many heart-wrenching torments in one thing, at least from my point of view. I said that harmony and a love life between us cannot be realised until — I said — you come to [the same conclusions] that I have come to, either through love for me, or through an instinct which is given to everyone, or through the conviction <that you don’t trust me>⁴⁹² — and will start walking together with me. I said “until you come to me” and not “until I come to you”, because that is impossible for me. Impossible because what you live by is the same that I have just been saved from — from a frightful horror which all but drove me to suicide. — I cannot return to what I used to live by, to what offered me only perdition and what I recognised as the greatest evil and misfortune. But you can try to come to something you don’t know yet, something that in general terms may be described as living not for one’s own pleasure (I’m not talking about your life, but about the children’s), not for one’s own self-love, but for God or for others — which has always been considered to be the best by everyone and which resonates as such in your own conscience as well. All our arguments over the past years have always led just to this point. Indeed, it is worth pondering why this is so. And if you think [about it] sincerely and (most importantly) calmly, it will be clear to you why this is so. — You are making such valiant efforts to publish my writings, you have been petitioning so much in Petersburg and fervently defending my banned articles. And just what has been written there in these articles? In the first of these, in A Confession [Ispoved’], which was written in 1879 but expresses thoughts and feelings which I lived with about two years before that — hence, a little less than ten years ago. This is what I wrote. I was writing not for the public; but I wrote what I endured, what I came to not for conversation or eloquent words, but came, as you know, <if you are not in [a state of] irritation,> I came to everything I came to sincerely and <seriously> in order to live the way I spoke. This is what I wrote: pages 56, 57, 58, 59 marked off…⁴⁹³

You know, after all, that all this I did not write just for the beauty of words, but that this is [the realisation] I came to in saving myself from despair. (For God’s sake, don’t say that this was madness, that it was impossible for you to keep up with all my fantasies, and so forth. I ask you not to say that, so as not to detract from the subject [at hand]. The subject at hand is me — I’ll talk about you later — and I want to present myself in the actual condition in which I find myself, [in which] I live and shall die, harnessing all my strength to tell only the truth before God.) And so it is just under ten years ago that the <major> quarrels between us began to end the way I said: [namely,] that we would not come together until we came to a single view of life; since that time my life has gone — not just in my thinking (in my soul I have always been similarly inclined) — completely opposite to the direction in which it was going before, and is still heading further and further in the same direction both in my thoughts, which I am more and more clarifying to myself and expressing as clearly as I can, and particularly in my life’s activities, which are reflecting more and more closely [the principles] I believe in. Here, in order to [continue] talking about myself, I should [also] speak about your reaction to the changes in my faith and in my life. I shall talk about you not with the thought of accusing you — I am not accusing you — I understand, it seems, <all> your motives, and see nothing bad in them, but I must describe what has happened in order that the result may be understandable; and so, my darling, in the name of all that is holy, do listen calmly to what I have to say. I am not accusing you and cannot [accuse you] of anything, and I do not want [to accuse you]; on the contrary, I desire [only] our unity and love, and so I cannot desire to hurt you, but in order to explain my situation, I must speak about those unhappy misunderstandings which have brought us to the present divergence in our togetherness — to this situation which has been tormenting both of us.

For God’s sake hold back and read calmly, setting aside temporarily any thought about yourself. About you, your feelings and your situation I shall be speaking later, but right now it is vital that you understand your attitude towards me, that you understand me, understand my life as it is and not as you might wish it to be. When I tell you that my situation in the family is my constant misfortune, that is an unquestionable fact. I know that [for certain], just as people know when they have a toothache. Perhaps I myself am to blame, but the fact remains, and if it torments you to know that I am unhappy (I know that it torments you), what needs to be done is not to deny the pain, not to tell me that I myself am to blame, but to think of how to escape from it — from the pain that hurts in me and is causing you and the whole family to suffer. Pain from [the fact] that almost ten years ago I came to [the realisation] that my (or anyone’s) only [hope of] salvation in life is to live not for one’s self, but for others, and that our life — the life of our social stratum — is all geared to living for one’s self, all built on pride, cruelty, oppression and evil, and consequently that someone in our way of life wishing to live a good life, to live with a peaceful conscience and to live joyfully, need not seek to accomplish any clever, far-off heroic deeds, but right now, right this minute, act and work hour by hour and day by day to change [our life] and advance from the bad to the good; and in this alone is [to be found] the happiness and true worth of people of our circle, but in the meantime you and the whole family are heading [on a course]: not to change this life, but with the growth of the family, with the increasing selfishness of its members, to reinforce [this life’s] bad aspects. This is where the pain comes from. How do I treat it? Renounce my faith? You know I can’t do that. If I said in words that I renounce it, nobody, even you, would believe me, any more than if I said that 2 x 2 was not 4. What can I do? Confess this faith in words and books but act just the opposite way in life? Again, even you cannot recommend such a course. Forget about it? I can’t. — What then can I do? Here’s the crux of the matter, after all: this concept that I’m occupied with — perhaps one to which I am called — is an issue of moral teachings. And issues of moral teachings are different from all other subjects in that they cannot change, they can’t be relegated to [mere] words, that they cannot be obligatory for one but not obligatory for another. — If one’s conscience and reason require — and it has become quite clear to me what conscience and reason require — I cannot avoid doing what conscience and reason require and feel at peace — I cannot look at people associated with my love, people who know what reason and conscience require and refuse to do it, and not suffer. —

No matter which way you turn, I cannot help but suffer! living the life we live. And nobody, not even you, can say that the cause of my suffering is false. You yourself know that if I die tomorrow, the same things I say will be said by others, people’s very conscience will say them, and keep on saying them until such time that people actually do them, or at least begin to do what their conscience requires. — And so, to do away with our discord and misfortune, you cannot take away from me the cause of my suffering, since it is not I, but she — <truth> — [who is] in the conscience of all people, she is even in you. — And that leaves one more thing to ponder: is it not possible to eliminate the discrepancy between the way we live and the requirements of conscience? Is it not possible that by changing our life-style we could eliminate the suffering which I experience and convey to you? — I said that I was saved from despair by coming to the truth. This seems a rather proud affirmation for people such as Pilate who say “What is truth?”⁴⁹⁴ but there is no pride here. Man cannot live without knowing the truth. But I want to say that I am ready [to accept] — despite the fact that all the wise men and holy people of the world are on my side and that you also recognise what I recognise to be the truth I am willing to consider [the possibility] that what I have lived by and [still] live by may not be the truth but only my obsession, that I have fancied myself as knowing the truth and that I cannot stop believing in it and living for it, that I cannot cure myself of my obsession. I am ready to consider this, too, in which case you are left in the same position. Since nothing can take away from me what I live by and return me to the past, then [the question is:] how <to live with me in the best possible way?>, to destroy those sufferings, those experienced by me and all of you, which result from my incurable madness?

Whether you consider my views the truth or madness (it’s all the same), there is only one solution for this: to grasp the essence of these views, to take a comprehensive look at them, to understand them. And, by an unfortunate coincidence (which I talked about [earlier]), not only have none of these [steps] ever been taken by you, (or by the children following [your example]), but you have accustomed yourselves to be wary of them. You have inculcated in yourselves a habit of forgetting, of not seeing, of not understanding, of not [even] admitting the existence of such views, of treating them as curious <literary> thoughts, but not as key to the understanding of mankind.

This is how it happened: when I experienced a spiritual upheaval within me and my inner life changed, you attached no meaning or significance to it and failed to grasp the essence of what was taking place in me; [instead,] through an unfortunate coincidence, you succumbed to the general opinion that a writer-artist like Gogol’⁴⁹⁵ needs to create works of art and not think about his life or correct what seems to be a kind of foolishness or mental illness; you succumbed to this tendency, right away you <even> took a hostile stance against what was for me a salvation from despair and a return to life.

It turned out that all my activity along this new path — everything that was supporting me therein — you began to see as harmful and dangerous for me and the children. — So as not to come back to this later, I shall speak here about the relation of my views on life to the family and the children, — to counter the ungrounded objection — <so you don’t set [it] up in your heart> — that my views on life might be all right for me, but not applicable to the children. There are various views on life — private views: one person thinks that to [achieve] happiness one must <first of all> be a scholar; another says an artist, a third — rich, or nobility, etc. These are all private views, but my views have been [basically] moral and religious, referring to what anyone should do to fulfil God’s will, so that he and everybody else might be happy. Religious views may be incorrect and if so, they should be refuted, or simply not accepted, but in opposing religious views one should not say what people say (including you, sometimes) that they’re all right for you, but are they all right for the children? In my view I and my life have no meaning or rights; my views are precious to me not for my sake, but for other people’s happiness; and among those others it is the children who are closest to me. And so what I consider good, I consider as such not for myself, but for others and especially for my children. And so it turned out that by an unfortunate misunderstanding you did not grasp the essence of what was for me a major upheaval, changing my life <irrevocably>, but you even treated it, not exactly as something hateful, but as a disease of abnormality, though with good motives, desiring to save me and others from this obsession; and from that time on you took special effort to pull [me] in exactly the opposite direction from the one in which my new life was leading me. Everything that was dear and important to me, all of that became repulsive to you: our charming, quiet modest country life and people who participated in it, like Vasilij Ivanovich, whom, I know, you hold in high regard, but whom you at one time considered an enemy who provoked in me and the children what you saw as a false, diseased and unnatural reaction.⁴⁹⁶ And this was the starting-point of your treating me as a mental patient, which I was very well aware of. Even before that you were bold and decisive, but now this decisiveness has become even stronger, as happens with people when they take care of patients deemed mentally ill. My darling! Remember these past years of our life in the country, when on the one hand I worked harder than I had ever worked (or will work again) in my life — on the Gospel⁴⁹⁷ (whatever the result of this work may be, I know that I put every ounce of my God-given spiritual strength into it) — and on the other hand I began to apply in life what had been revealed to me from the Gospel teachings: I renounced private property, started to give away things people asked me for, renounced vainglory <both> for myself and the children, knowing (as I knew 30 years ago what was being stifled in me by vainglory) that what you were preparing for them in the form of a refined education with French and English governors and governesses, with music, etc., were temptations of vainglory, exalting one’s self over others — [this was] a millstone which we ourselves had placed around our necks. Remember that time and [remember] how you treated my work and my new life. All that seemed to you a one-sided obsession, a pitiful one at that, and the results of this obsession seemed to you to be even dangerous for the children. I’m afraid to say, and I’m not dwelling on it, but this is associated with the young age at which you married, weariness from motherly labours, ignorance of the high society which to you seemed so captivating, and you, with great decisiveness and energy, completely closing your eyes to what was taking place in me, to [the ideals] in whose name I became what I became — were pulling in exactly the opposite direction: [you sent] the children to a gymnasium, [you decided] to bring out [our] little girl and introduce her to society, and to create a perfect social setting. <And in this activity of yours you felt yourself completely free. Here you made an unintentional mistake.> You believed your own feeling and the general opinion that my new life was an obsession, a kind of mental illness; you failed to grasp the essence of its meaning and started to act with an unaccustomed decisiveness and at the same time great freedom, with [the result that] everything that you were doing — the move to Moscow, your setting up your life there, and bringing up the children — all that was so foreign to me that I could no longer have any voice in the matter, since all this was happening, <counter to what I believed>, in the area that I considered evil [?]. What happened in the countryside on the basis of mutual concessions, in terms of the utter simplicity of life and especially because it was 20 years old, still had some sense and meaning for me; the new, <monstrous> order of things [in Moscow], contrary to all my concepts of life, could no longer have any meaning for me other than that I should try to bear it in the best and calmest way possible. This new Moscow life was a trial for me, one I had never experienced before in all my days. Not only did I suffer every step, every minute, from the discrepancy between my and my family’s life and my life in terms of luxury, depravity and poverty, in which I felt like a participant — I not only suffered, but I went mad and turned into a devil, and participated directly, deliberately in this depravity. I ate, drank, played cards, indulged in vainglory, repented, and was becoming repulsive to myself. There was one salvation — my writing, and in this I didn’t find peace, but I forgot myself.

It wasn’t any better in the countryside. [I felt] the same neglect, not by you alone, but also by our growing children, naturally inclined as they are to assimilate that view of me which would indulge their [own] weaknesses and tastes — as a kind, relatively benign lunatic with whom you should never discuss the specific nature of his lunacy. Life passed by me. And sometimes (you were wrong about this), you called upon me to participate in this life, you made demands on me, you reproached me for not involving myself in money matters or in the bringing up of our children, as though I were capable of handling money matters, [as though I were capable of] increasing or preserving [our] wealth, so as to increase and preserve the very evil which, in my view, was causing my children to ruin themselves. As though I could involve myself in an upbringing based on pride — isolating one’s self from people, secular education and academic degrees, which were identical with what I associated with people’s downfall? You, along with our growing children, were moving farther and farther in one direction, and I in quite another. Thus years passed — one year, two years, five years. The children grew, <[you] spoilt them as [you] raised them>, while the two of us kept growing further and further apart, and my situation become more false, more difficult. I was travelling with people who had strayed down a wrong path, in the hopes of turning them around: I would travel along silently, or try to persuade them to stop and change their course, or yield to them, or get upset and try to stop them. But the farther [we went], the worse [it became]. Now inertia has set in: they travel because that is the way they have been travelling, they are already in a groove and my attempts at persuasion only irritate them. <I had only one [choice] left: to avoid pandering and keep pulling until I pulled [their] tendons in the opposite direction.> But that doesn’t make things any better for me and sometimes, as in these days, I fall into despair and ask my conscience and reason what I should do, and do not hear any answer. I have three choices: [1)] Use my authority: give my possessions to those to whom they belong — the workers, give them away to somebody just to save little ones and young people from temptations and perdition; but [if I attempt to do that], it will be forcing it, and I shall provoke malice and irritation along with the same desires, only without satisfaction, which would be even worse; 2) Leave the family? — but I would be leaving them all alone — it would destroy my seemingly ineffective influence (but possibly effective and active [in the future]); I would be leaving both my wife and myself in a lonely [state] and breaking a commandment; 3) Continue to live as I have been, working out within myself the strength to fight evil lovingly and meekly. This I am doing, but I am not gaining any lovingkindness or meekness and am doubly suffering both from life and from remorse. Is that the way it has to be? Do I have to live to my dying days under such agonising conditions? Death is not that far off. And it will be difficult for me to die under a reproach for all the unnecessary burdens of the last years of my life, which I shall barely be able to suppress even before death, and [difficult] for you to bid farewell to me, doubting as to whether you could have avoided causing me those uniquely severe sufferings that I have experienced in my life. — I’m afraid that these words will cause you grief, and that your grief will result in irritation.

Imagine — if I happened to come across your diary, in which you describe your deepest feelings and thoughts, all the motivations behind your various activities — how interested I would be in reading it! Yet all my works, which have been nothing less than my life, have been and continue to be of so little interest to you that, when you come across them, you will read them [only] out of curiosity or as a literary work; while the children aren’t even interested at all. You all seem to think that I exist for myself alone, and that my writings exist for themselves alone. —

My writings are me — through and through. In [daily] life I was not free to fully express my views, in life I make concessions to the need of co-habiting with the family; [but] I live and deny in my heart this whole [daily] life, and this whole life which is not mine is what you all consider to be my life, while my life as expressed in my writings you dismiss as mere words having no reality.

The source of all our discord was that fatal mistake, whereby eight years ago you thought the upheaval taking place in me <to be something unnatural>. This upheaval, which took me from the realm of dreams and spectres into real life, you deemed something unnatural, coincidental, temporary, fantasaical, one-sided — something which was not to be explored or deciphered but which must be struggled against with all one’s might. — And you struggled [against it] for eight years and as a result of this struggle I am suffering more than ever, I’m <gasping for breath>, but not only do I not abandon my new convictions, but I keep on heading in the same direction and gasp for breath in the struggle and, through my own suffering, cause all of you to suffer, too.

What is to be done? It’s strange [that I even have to] answer this, since the answer is so simple: we need to do what should have been done right from the start, what anyone does when faced with any kind of obstacle in life: <remove the obstacle by force, or> understand where this obstacle came from and then remove it or, if we consider it to be immovable, yield to it.

[All of] you point to every [explanation] except one — namely, that [the lot of] you are the cause — the unintentional, unwitting cause — of my sufferings. —

People travel along with a bloody, suffering, dying creature trailing behind them. They feel pity and want to help, but don’t want to stop. Why not try stopping?

You look for the cause — [you should] look for some kind of medicine. [Let’s say] the children stop overeating (Vegetarianism). I am happy and cheerful (despite the resistance and malicious attacks). The children begin to tidy up their rooms, refrain from going to the theatre, show mercy to peasant men and women, and pick up a serious book to read — and [so] I’m happy and cheerful, and all my diseases disappear instantaneously. But, after all, this is not happening, obstinately and deliberately not happening.

A struggle for death is taking place between us — [Are we] God’s or not God’s. And since you have God in you, you[–]⁴⁹⁸

It is important to grasp the essence of what motivates me and what I am expressing to the best of my abilities; this is necessary all the more so since sooner or later — judging by the spreading [popularity] and sympathy which my thoughts engender — people will have to understand them: not in the way they are assiduously misunderstood by those who find them repulsive — that I only preach that everybody should live a primitive life and plough [fields], and renounce all pleasures — but in the way that I understand and express them.

Nº 125 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 162]
[19 December 1885. Moscow]

Dear friend, I am enclosing for you a letter Pobedonostsev wrote to me,⁴⁹⁹ as copied by Lëlja. You can see from it that [our request] has been denied with no right of appeal, which is very disconcerting and unpleasant. But it seems that everything in my life has gone against the current, and the greater any kind of suffering, the more and more constricted I feel and the less I want to live. Now, before the holidays they could actually typeset What then must be done? [Tak, chto zhe nam delat’?]⁵⁰⁰ and print the whole volume! But you have left and taken everything [with you], and I cannot undertake anything!

Please take this into consideration and, if possible, help me get out Volume XII as soon as possible. Each day brings a huge demand for the books, today [we published] 31 notices, and again I’ll have to collect vouchers and send out Volume XII by special [shipment].

How was your trip? This morning was fine, but now in the evening it’s windy and cold. Masha and Andrjusha went to the Patriarch Ponds [to skate] with the Tolstojs.⁵⁰¹ I’ve been busy all day with my own project. Ol’ga Zajkovskaja⁵⁰² had dinner here. She’s filled out quite a bit. I was glad of her visit. Uncle Kostja is here; he took it upon himself to write out addresses [on the packages of books] and has been torturing me with his instruments.

Both Masha and I have had a sore throat since [yesterday] evening, and Lëlja has been having a headache. He didn’t go to the gymnasium today. He had a sleep, and now he’s sitting with me and copying Pobedonostsev’s letter. Masha is studying. Everything’s fine for now; I am impatiently awaiting news of you all.

I received a very dear letter⁵⁰³ from Mikhail Stakhovich about a peasant woman. There’s a lot to tell about her which I shan’t write for lack of time.

Tanja, dear, don’t fall ill, love me the way you’ve been loving me lately. As long as you haven’t been missing us too much, I’m happy that you all are with such dear, kind, intelligent, marvellous people as the whole Olsuf’ev family, to whom I send my heartfelt regards and gratitude for you.

S. T.

19 December, evening.

Lëvochka, don’t forget my request to do something to speed up the overdue volume. Write and tell me whether anything needs to be done by way of transcribing or typesetting.

Nº 126 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/348]
21 or 22 December 1885. Obol’janovo.

I have not written you for two days, dear friend, since Tanja wrote and since I had not yet regained my normal state [of health and mind].

Today I received your letter⁵⁰⁴ with a copy of Pobedonostsev’s [letter], which has interested and offended everyone. It didn’t fascinate me in any way, but I was fascinated by your letter — that mood of burdensomeness and haste which you continue to find yourself in and which is very hard on you. — My manuscript, I think, will not delay anything, since between now and Christmas the printshop will not be operating, and by the 3rd day of the holiday I shall deliver the manuscript with Tanja or I shall bring it myself. — Ah, my darling, such a pity that you torment yourself this way — either that, or the projects you started are tormenting you. I comfort myself with [the thought] that physical causes will help you calm down, and am glad that I [finally] find myself in such a normal situation, that I shall not disturb or torment you as I have all this past while.

I was busy writing [this letter], when Lëlja and Verochka arrived. And now I just read your letter.⁵⁰⁵ And now my heart [is constricted] and I feel the same despair and melancholy which I felt back in Moscow and which completely disappeared here. Again the same thing: “The burden is too heavy: he never helps, I am doing everything, life doesn’t wait.” All these words are familiar to me and, most importantly, completely unrelated to what I am writing and saying. I was saying and am still saying the same thing, [namely,] that you need to take stock and decide what is good and what is bad, and in which direction you should go; and if you don’t take stock, you shouldn’t be surprised that you will suffer yourself and that others will suffer, [too].

As to the necessity of doing something right now, there is nothing to say, since people with money for shelter and food need to do nothing but think things over and live as best they can. But for now, for God’s sake, let’s never talk about this again. I shan’t. I hope to calm my nerves and keep quiet. — Everything I experienced in Moscow came not from physical causes. After three days here of the same life I had in Moscow — without [eating] meat, with heavy physical work — here I chop and saw wood — I feel quite lively and have splendid sleeps. — But what to do? I, at least, cannot change anything — you know that yourself. There is only one thing [I can do]: and that is to work out a [sense of] inner peace and kindness, which I have little of, and that I shall try to do. Farewell, my darling. Hugs and kisses to you; I love you, and feel sorry for you. Hugs and kisses to the children!

How lonely you must be! I need to come to you as soon as possible.

On the envelope: Moscow. Dolgokhamovniki Lane. Nº 15. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 127 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 164]
(Letter addressed jointly to Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy and Tat’jana L’vovna Tolstaja)
23 December [1885]. Night. [Moscow]

Well, I thank you, my dear Lëvochka and Tanja, that you have cheered me with [your] good letters. This evening I am at least certainly happy and cheerful. But [my health problems] have really got me down! I am starting to have neuralgia again in the old place in the right (painful) eye, my temple, eyebrows and my whole head. There is still hope that it won’t continue for long — but there is also a nasty fear of pain, which is very sharp, so that my hands tremble when I write. This is untimely in view of my activities, which have been exhausting for me. And then there are the holidays, and everyone’s bustling about, cleaning, washing busily and noisily. But it would all be fine if only nobody reproached anyone else for anything, and everybody were happy and cheerful! I shall probably be wracked by pain — no matter how brave I try to be, this tic douloureux is very real and since dinner it has been tormenting me worse and worse. Tomorrow Serëzha will go and take this letter, and I am also sending all Chertkov’s letters along with those addressed to Tanja. Review them all, [the two of you,] as best you can and don’t lose anything.

Varen’ka⁵⁰⁶ had dinner here, along with Treskin⁵⁰⁷ and Uncle Kostja. I went shopping before dinner.

I am writing and I feel I can’t write any more: I feel a knocking in my temples, even a trembling breaking through. I needed to write something and can’t remember [what].

Yes, we read over your letter again today,⁵⁰⁸ together with Varja. And the letter made the same impression [on us] which you yourself make — sad, pitiful to see and hard [on us to see] you suffer. But what to do?

You know, I’m actually glad that my temples are so painful. The physical pain distracts from the pain in my heart. Maybe tomorrow it will all be past, but today, once again, I am too tired. All these past few days I have been going to bed at 4 in the morning and getting up after 10.

Gribovskij⁵⁰⁹ was here — what another repulsive creature he is!

He asked me (why?) for some of your works for Niva! What sort of fools! but my temples were hurting, and I got angry and made fun of him. But he’s a bold fellow.

Tanja, I’m sincerely happy that you and Papà are doing well and that he is relaxing. I know, Tanja, that everything is fine in our [family] life, and that there’s nothing to cry about, But tell this to Papà rather than me. He is the one who whines and groans, and is killing us by doing so. Why doesn’t he cry at Nikol’skoe⁵¹⁰ over the Olsuf’evs, and over himself and you? Isn’t it the same — but even wealthier — life there and all over the world? Why should I be the souffre-douleur for all his fantasies? I, who always have loved and wanted to live for others, and it cost me nothing — this has [always] been my sheer joy! — I am grateful that my children trust me. And I shall justify their trust, as now that’s the only thing I have left. — But to be cheerful?! Is that possible, when you [constantly] hear a sick man’s groanings right beside you? Especially a sick man you are accustomed to loving?! Just think about it. I’ll say just one thing for now: yes, I want him to come back to me, just as he wants me to follow him. Mine — this is the old, happy [life] undoubtedly well lived, bright and cheerful, and loving, and friendly. His — that is the new, everlasting torment, tugging at everyone’s heartstrings, perplexing and shocking, provoking despair not only among the family, but among his relatives, chums and friends.

It is a state of gloom which I will not enter, it is an affliction which will kill me. No, I shan’t be tempted into that horror. It is the new — supposedly redemptive, but actually instilling the same desire to die — that has been torturing me so much that I hate it.

Yes, I call upon my old, which is true, and happiness will be restored only when we start living [again] the way we used to live.

It’s never been this clear to me before. And it’s clear that I am now very, very unhappy with such discord — but I will not and cannot destroy [my] life.

As to my ‘publishing ventures’, I’ll simply say this: I retreat into this frightening work for intoxication; it’s my drinking house, where I can forget myself and my strained family situation. Fancy balls and society life — these have also been my tavern. — To go off anywhere from these scenes and reproaches, from these sufferings in the name of some kind of new good, killing the old happiness, and woe to me if I, tortured and intoxicated, go off not to just some kind of tavern, but go off anywhere full stop — that is something I so often desire.

I’ve been writing such a long [letter] under the influence of [my] neuralgia. But at the same time it’s all clear, and it’s all — all the same. Farewell, I am not asking [you to] come home — what for? I have to suffer through my illness alone — it’s easier for me, and better for you.

S. T.

Nº 128 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 165]
24 December [1885]. [Moscow]

Dear Lëvochka, my last letter, unfortunately, did not fulfil the programme you [suggested]. With the [passing] years it’s been harder to withstand the tribulations of the soul and physically easier to give into a diseased condition. Yesterday my head was aching something awful; today that neuralgic pain is still there, but it’s eased somewhat. It seems it’s only a twenty-four hour migraine, or something like that. My work is still piling up, but it’s not the work that slows [me] down, but the [everyday] cares. I feel at peace about you and Tanja; you’re with good people [i.e. the Olsuf’evs], you have good air [to breathe], and complete mental tranquillity.

Never have holidays been so lonely for me; there’s absolutely no one around, I dare not indulge in Christmas trees or merriment, and am not about to call anyone to gaze at my dismal figure. I sit at my desk with my envelopes.

Anyway, today I took the three little ones to a Christmas party at the Obolenskijs.⁵¹¹ How cheerful they all were, dancing and delighting in their presents! It was all so kindhearted, hospitable — especially (as always) on the part of the hosts. Mashen’ka, [your] sister, danced the quadrille, grasping her gown with both hands and clowning around. She’s very adorable when she’s cheerful. Yesterday D’jakov tempted everyone, i.e. Mashen’ka, his daughter Masha, Liza and her husband [the Obolenskijs], Varen’ka and her husband [Nikolaj Mikhajlovich Nagornov], Uncle Serëzha — they all went to the Yar⁵¹² — to hear Hungarian gipsies. I was invited, too, but what would I want with gipsies? — I just wanted to be quiet.

By contrast, a very witty and interesting letter arrived from Fejnerman⁵¹³ for you. But what a miserable fanatic [he is], with your patterns of thought — i.e. gloom. He writes that he and his wife almost came to blows, and he wants to leave her. He is [trying to] take from her only her most meagre possessions — her last piece of bread, to give it away. She won’t give it, of course, and all hell has broken loose. — And that is what I am expected to strive for! No, your teachings are sheer monasticism, which people turn to when they become monks for the first time [in history].

Chertkov is at odds with his mother — he wanted to leave her. Fejnerman wants to leave his wife; you want to leave your family. — But if it weren’t for that, [think] how happy we would be, how we probably still love each other deep in our hearts. And surely both Chertkov and Fejnerman love their families. Something I shall never understand: why the truth must bring with it evil and dissension — dissension not with bandits, but with quiet, loving people? For the first time in my life I was glad that you went away. How painful and sad that is! But, of course, I shall be even more glad when you come [home].

How are Tanja and Vera⁵¹⁴ doing? They are both missed at their homes — their families are longing for them. Il’ja has gone off in his most usual mood: he wants to bring in [hunting] dogs, and was asking extra money for that. Alcide and [Vladimir Fëdorovich] Orlov have gone off with him to the same place. Masha is feeling quite unwell these days. Either she has had chest pains — [for which] they applied mustard plasters, or her head aches terribly. She doesn’t eat anything at all — soon it will be seen how the poor thing has been done in by vegetarianism. — But I’m not the one killing her. My job has [always] been to keep feeding the little ones, and that is a job I’ve done well. And whoever would interfere with my job, let him answer to God. Well, farewell, Lëvochka. Once again it’s late and I’m going to bed.

Sonja.

My greetings to all for the holidays, and I wish health, happiness and peace to everyone that needs it. I hear the Christmas bells ringing out all over Moscow.

Nº 129 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/351]
27 December 1885. Obol’janovo.

I am writing, dear friend, in any case — i.e. in case I am somehow delayed, as tomorrow, Saturday, I was planning to go to Moscow. It is possible I shan’t go because of the weather or a wretched night; another cause [for not going] might be: [if I went now,] Lëlja might miss receiving his books [on time]⁵¹⁵ and I might miss receiving news from you.

For some time, ever since Tanja’s departure [on 26 December] and your latest illness letter,⁵¹⁶ I haven’t had any news from you. Since Christmas Day I can say that I have been feeling better and better, especially morally. They went [horseback] riding, while I took a stroll along the roads, walking and thinking, and repenting, and praying to God. I am saying this not [just] to put your mind at ease, but I sincerely realised how much I am to blame, and as soon as I realised this and specially rooted out of my heart any contrived reproaches and replaced them with love for you and Serëzha, I began to feel good, and will continue to feel good regardless of any external conditions. — As for writing, I have not got around to any. Life here is the same as before — quiet, pure and kind. Today, just now, the mummers were here, and all of us, Serëzha and Treskin, and Liza,⁵¹⁷ went in costume to the priest. Tanja would have been so excited, I’m sorry [she left early]. Hugs and kisses, love to you and the children.

On the envelope: Moscow. Dolgokhamovniki Lane. Nº 15. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 130 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 168]
[7 April 1886. Moscow]

Dear Lëvochka, we have just written to Lëlja at Yasnaya, in care of Kozlovka, where he went yesterday with Alcide, a detailed description of yesterday’s reading,⁵¹⁸ which was ten times more solemn than the first, and so I shan’t describe it to you any more [here]. There was long and unanimous applause especially for How much land does a man need? [Skol’ko cheloveku zemli nuzhno?]. Storozhenko⁵¹⁹ gave a good reading and left the impression that the style was remarkably strict, compact, not a single unnecessary word, everything spot on, precise, in perfect harmony: a lot of content, few words, and satisfying right to the end. [Of course] you know all this yourself. There were a lot of young people, all of them students. I saw Ivanova⁵²⁰ there, Urusov’s sister — she’s in despair over her nephew⁵²¹ and his rudeness. They didn’t read The imp and the crust [Kak chertënok krajushku vykupal], since there the devil says: “I only gave a muzhik just some more of the harvest, and a beast’s blood started speaking in him.” As though that would stir up young people against you, and [they] wouldn’t like it.

Oh, the cold and the wind! I am simply in despair over all my absent [family]: Lëlja caught cold out hunting, while when you’re in the field the wind blows right through you. You perspire [even just] walking, and then the wind cools you off. Simply a calamity! Besides, I rarely get news, I know nothing about any of you. The few words [you wrote] from Podol’sk have not satisfied me in the least: Are you all soaked through? Tired? Did you get enough to eat? Where did you spend the night? — I’ve had no news.⁵²²

I have very little time, and so I shan’t write you any long letters; besides, there’s nothing to write about. Everything’s [fine] with us, thank God. Only my heart is quite restless, and that is worst of all. If [the weather] were warm, I’d be happy about your journey, but without warm clothing it can be very dangerous in the cold north wind. You are playing with God, you are putting Him to the test; you do have good health, but you will be done in by your own fantasies. When I hear that everyone’s healthy and safe, then I shall be at peace.

The Kuzminskijs are coming on Wednesday. Tomorrow I’m expecting Volume XII; I’ll write to you care of Kozlovka. Hugs and kisses to you, and regards to your fellow-travellers.

Sonja.

Nº 131 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/356]
9 April 1886. Yasnaya Polyana.
From Yasnaya. After 10 p.m.

I received all your letters.⁵²³ I was very glad and grateful. — Only it’s a pity you’ve been worrying [about me] when there’s no need to. We had a splendid trek. As I had expected, I’m left with one of the best memories of my life. From beginning to end my health has been better than in Moscow — excellent [in fact]. No troubles at all. It is just like someone on dry land imagining he’s on an island with the sea all round. That’s how we are when we stay in cities, under our own [self-imposed] conditions. But once you venture across this sea, it [turns out to be] dry land and magnificent. Kolichka⁵²⁴ and I — he was in the lead, I right behind him, in second place. Stakhovich proved to be not as strong. Kolichka [and I] were saying that this is one of the most instructive and joyful times — we saw nothing but kindness and geniality and we ourselves showed nothing but these to anyone.⁵²⁵ We sustained ourselves on tea and bread, — twice had cabbage soup and felt sprightly and healthy. We spent our nights with as many as twelve people to a hut and had a splendid sleep. I got to sleep late, but then we didn’t set out that early [the next morning]. Along the way we had two rides [in wagons] — 25 versts in all. I’m very happy for you, for [getting] Volume 12 [past the censors],⁵²⁶ and am happy for myself, mainly over Ivan the Fool [Ivan-durak]. We arrived at Yasnaya at 8 o’clock. Lëlja and Alcide were out hunting. Then they came along with [Isaak Borisovich] Fejnerman, and [we all] had tea. Lëlja and Alcide are cheerful and healthy, and are going hunting with Fomich.⁵²⁷

I thank Mme Seuron for the book and the pencil; I used them a little in connection with the stories of a 95-year-old soldier with whom we stayed overnight. I had various thoughts come to me, which I jotted down. ⁵²⁸

Hugs and kisses to Serëzha — he, no doubt, is helping you; Tanja — she, no doubt, calms you down when you start worrying; Masha — she, no doubt, is also helping you; and the little ones — they, no doubt, cheer you up, — especially Andrjusha. He’s been good lately. I love you very much and am constantly thinking about you. No doubt you’ve come to terms with Il’ja. He is generally good, when he’s not snorting away. Hugs and kisses to the Kuzminskijs. They have a calming effect, too — both father and daughter. —

Don’t fret that [this] letter’s all jumbled. I’m writing and nodding off [at the same time]. ’Til our next meeting, darling, if God grants.

Nº 132 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 172]
[2 May 1886. Moscow]

I gather Birjukov is with you at the moment, and [he] has probably have told you about how we live. It’s quite warm today, and even though my littlest ones are coughing quite a bit, I have let them go out into the garden. Lëlja and I are quite disappointed that you are overworking yourself to your own harm. Don’t make any unnecessary effort, and beware of sunstroke. After all, you don’t have a worker’s brain — i.e. not one like working people, but one that is tortured, sensitive and perceptive.

The Odessa girl⁵²⁹ upset me greatly, but your reaction to her appearance calmed me down. I’m really disappointed that Kolichka is not coming; there is so much to be done, that it is unthinkable to turn my attention to packing [books] or anything else. I feel badly that I haven’t yet transcribed “Soldier”⁵³⁰ for you. Your postscript I shall send to Klobskij.⁵³¹

Serëzha’s just arrived from the Olsuf’evs’, and on Monday is heading to Samara. Serëzha remembered Klobskij’s address. A telegram from Samara says that the Patrovskij plot [at the Samara estate] has been leased for 2,000 silver roubles.

There are still problems with money [management] — I’d [like to] arrange things in a better way, only I don’t know how.

I still wanted to tell you something: Lëlja sits [every] evening on the day-bed, fretting, afraid of his exams, says that his geography preliminary is tomorrow, and so today — his spirits are really down. And here am I writing, bored because there are no letters from you. — Just this moment they brought a letter.⁵³² We were delighted, we read the letter, and [Lëlja] cheered up so much that he’s been studying all evening, and today at the preliminary he got a 4 [out of 5], and there won’t be a geography exam, which means he’ll soon be free.

Do keep on writing, dear friend, you see how your letters liven up [our lives].

I am sending you the notice; you are to sign it and send it back.

Skrytnov⁵³³ came today, and brought What then must be done? [Tak chto zhe nam delat’?]. He demanded [the return of] the book with the portrait of François Lasalle — I think that was it. We looked for it and couldn’t find it anywhere.

Panov⁵³⁴ was here, urgently demanding money, and I dealt with him severely. He’s bad, he’s a swindler and not reliable, it seems.

He wants to write to you, but I said it wouldn’t lead to anything, and that he would receive his money from the first sales [of the edition]. Yesterday [Ge’s] illustrations went to Mamontov’s⁵³⁵ and [the books] will come out next week.

Farewell, dear friend, be healthy and cheerful. Tomorrow I’ll spend the day at Alësha’s little grave.⁵³⁶ I’m going to put up a marker and a fence. And another time I shall go and do all the planting. I’m drawn to his grave. My grief is pointless and powerless.

Hugs and kisses.

Sonja.

Nº 133 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 83/361]
4 May 1886. Yasnaya Polyana.

I’m writing this morning so as not to hurry this evening. I saw off my guests⁵³⁷ yesterday, and I stayed behind alone with great delight. It rained the whole day. I went for a walk in the woods — I didn’t find any morel mushrooms, but I did pick some violets. At home I found many muzhiks who had come [to see me]. There has always been poverty, but all these years it has been on the rise and this year it has reached a frightening stage which is, like it or not, troubling to rich people. You can’t even have a quiet bowl of porridge and a bun with tea when you know that right next door there are people and children you know (like Chilikin’s children at Teljatinki, or Tanja’s wet-nurse Matrëna) who are going to bed without bread — they ask for it but there’s none. And there are so many like these. Not to mention the absence of oat seeds which threatens these people’s future, since it clearly shows them that if their fields are not sown and handed over to others, they have nothing awaiting them but the sale of their last belongings and to go begging. You can close your eyes to it — just as you can close your eyes when you are skating on the edge of an abyss — but it won’t change your situation. A few people used to complain about poverty, but that was rare. Now it’s a whole mass groaning. On the road, in taverns, in church, in homes, everybody’s talking about just one thing: destitution. You will ask: What can be done? How can one help? One can help by giving seeds and bread to those who ask for it, but that is not [real] help — it’s but a drop in the ocean, and, besides, that kind of help is counter-productive. [Let’s say] you’ve given to one or two, why not to twenty, a thousand, a million? Obviously, even if you give away everything you have, it’s still not enough. What to do? What to help with?⁵³⁸ With just one thing: a good and kind life. The totality of evil is not [the fact] that the rich have taken from the poor. That is just one small part of the cause. The [real] cause is that people, whether rich or middle-class or poor, live like predatory animals — each one for himself, each one trampling on [the rights of] others. This is where sorrow and poverty come from. Salvation from this comes only by introducing something else into one’s own life — and, consequently, the lives of others — [namely,] respect for all people, love for them, care about others and the greatest possible [degree of] self-denial, the rejection of one’s own selfish pleasures. — I am not admonishing you or preaching at you; I only write what I think — I am thinking aloud with you.

I know — and you know — everyone knows — that human evil will be destroyed by people, that this alone constitutes people’s [true] goal and meaning in life. — People will be working and are working for this. Why then should we not work for the same thing?

I could go on writing forever on this, but why do I have the premonition that you will respond with some kind of cruel word? [My] hand refuses to write any more about this — The weather today is splendid, hot. Now I want to heat up the house for the night. And open it up tomorrow for the sun itself. Today already there’s warm air blowing upstairs, and any moisture is scarcely to be felt. I remember that before I left you were saying something about a key to the keys. Did you give it to me or not? If you didn’t, then send it; if you did, write and tell [me where it is]. It’s not here, and I’m going to order a new key. The house has been washed, and if it stays that way, in about four days I’ll be able to move in. Only how are things with you? How are the little ones’ coughs? Has Kolichka come? — Farewell, my dear. Last night I saw you in a dream, and you were treating me badly. This means the opposite. Let it be so. Hugs and kisses to you and the children. So good [to hear] that Il’ja and Lëva are sitting with you [in the evenings]. That’s the way it ought to be. It’s better [when you gather] together. Has Masha stopped crying? Has Tanja stopped hiring a horse for 5 roubles an hour? 5 roubles could feed bread to children for a month instead of just crusts. I’m afraid that this is hard to understand [when you’re] in Moscow. And I’m waiting, waiting for all of you to come here as soon as you can. Thank you for the oranges and apples (you shouldn’t have!). Overall, you worry a lot about me. But I’m perfectly healthy. There’s nothing I’m missing, it’s all here. You’ve provided for everything.

I received your letter.⁵³⁹ Your attack on the girls was without cause. They are confused, but they are very kind and pure. I, too, heard about Orlov⁵⁴⁰ this year. It’s very sad.

On the envelope: Moscow. Dolgokhamovniki Lane. 15. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 134 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 178]
[3–4 January 1887. Moscow]

I’ve just got back with the little ones and Masha from the Obolenskijs’,⁵⁴¹ where they all went dancing (with piano accompaniment), and I received two telegrams: one from Savina⁵⁴² (which I enclose) and one from you. Both were of concern to me, especially Savina’s. I’m terribly anxious to go and fight [for you] in Petersburg. Your telegram⁵⁴³ is disconcerting, as I don’t know where to find the variant [you asked for]. Everything was done without my knowledge: I don’t know where to find what — at Sytin’s,⁵⁴⁴ at Petrov’s⁵⁴⁵ or somewhere else. Tomorrow morning I’ll send the artel worker around everywhere [to look for it]. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to locate the variant before Mrs. Sizova’s⁵⁴⁶ departure. If I can’t, I’ll copy it out later and send it to Podsolnechnaja.⁵⁴⁷ I dare not send the printed copy.

Everything’s fine with us. Only we couldn’t possibly lead a sillier or emptier life. I went calling this morning, made nine calls. Urusov⁵⁴⁸ and Uncle Kostja took dinner with us. My brother Sasha⁵⁴⁹ came; he is inviting us to his wedding on the 11th. Tomorrow he’s having dinner with me. In the evening we went to the Obolenskijs’: Masha, Lëva, me, Alcide, and two little ones. We danced there until midnight — the cotillon and others. It was hilarious to watch my little ones try so hard to imitate the grown-ups, dancing the quadrille, the mazurka, the waltz, and pretending they could do everything.

A huge lot of people are inviting themselves to hear your drama, Lëvochka. I promised only Auntie⁵⁵⁰ and Masha Sverbeeva and Varja Nagornova that I would read the drama [to them] on Monday. That is always pleasant for me. But suddenly today I began to receive requests from all sides. Where do they find out about it all from? Urusov, Ermolova, Lopatin,⁵⁵¹ Lev Ivanovich Polivanov through Lopatin. People who are all total strangers to each other. I got frightened, but then a sense of boldness overcame me — I said: “Well then, come, all of you!” I don’t know how my reading will turn out and what will come of it. Curious!

I hesitate to write about the censorship; so much anger is boiling up inside me that I’m ready to do anything, even take extreme measures, and I shall no doubt get all burnt up with this anger and not do anything. Tomorrow I shall write a letter to Feoktistov⁵⁵² — I shall be most curious as to how my letter turns out. I didn’t dare write him today — it would have turned out badly.

Thank you for wiring me about your health and your [safe] arrival. You should both take care of yourselves and write when you can. I wish you both cheer and good living. My regards to all your dear hosts, and I regret that I have never had the occasion to enjoy their hospitality. I have almost no business left now to do. But so much the worse — I just keep on chattering and muddling about.

Il’ja is meek; Lëva and Masha are cheerful; the mood at home is good; no word from Serëzha.

Hugs and kisses to Lëvochka and Tanja. It’s night-time now, I’m tired and writing whatever comes to my tired mind. But you will make proper sense of it all.

Farewell. I am sending along everything that I have received since you left.

S. T.

3–4 January 1887.

Night.

Nº 135 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/371]
7 January 1887. Nikol’skoe-Obol’janovo.

This morning, the 7th [of January], we received your letter⁵⁵³ in which you write about the reading. As to how you prepared for it, — i.e, [your] preceding letter⁵⁵⁴ — that hasn’t come yet. I’m happy that things are fine at home, judging by your two letters. Probably someone will come tonight bringing me your letters and those you are enclosing.⁵⁵⁵ Things are fine here, the way you might expect them to be.

Among [my] guests [here] were [Aleksandra] Sizova (she got [your] letter too late and couldn’t stop in to see you) and Kovalevskij.⁵⁵⁶ Today Tatarinov⁵⁵⁷ arrived.

Tanja is quiet and reserved, neither listless nor happy. Everyone is very much aux petits soins with her. Today she began drawing a portrait of the nanny. When I feel the spirit move me, I work on the narrative⁵⁵⁸ I started, which I spoke to you about. I haven’t been very well the whole time here, and am in a depressed mood, and with no spiritual energy, but [otherwise] splendid. I’ve been having stomach aches, chills and constipation, but this morning I started to feel better, only I went for a walk in the frosty air, and once again have begun to not feel quite myself. I don’t feel like going to see the Vsevolozhskijs;⁵⁵⁹ I feel like going home. But neither do I feel like arguing with Tanja. I’ll try to do as she wishes. Today I received your letter,⁵⁶⁰ as well as Stakhovich’s⁵⁶¹ on the drama — I’m forwarding it to you along with the article from Novoe vremja.⁵⁶² It’s being talked about everywhere. Weren’t you a little too hard on Feoktistov? It’s important not to get angry; even better to avoid being concerned at all. [Our] correspondence here is very indefinite; I know little about you all, and I miss [hearing about you]. There was a Christmas tree here in the Manège.⁵⁶³ Everything here is somehow languid and strained. They’re all good people, but the boys⁵⁶⁴ are the best of all. — Well, farewell, darling. I’ll write again tomorrow after receiving your letters. Both your letters [today] were so good, delightful, calm and substantial. Hugs and kisses to you and all the children; regards to Mme Seuron and [English governess] Miss Martha.

On the envelope: Moscow. Dolgokhamovniki Lane. 15. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 136 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 181]
[10 January 1887. Moscow]

I’m sending you, dear Lëvochka, Birjukov’s letter and another, which is rather mysterious, besides. Apart from these there are some rather uninteresting letters: from Èsfir’ Fejnerman,⁵⁶⁵ who is complaining about her fate and her husband; a whole notebook from an unknown lady; 20 sheets from an unknown [person named] Voevodin, and so forth. I don’t think I can send all these. It’s a bit upsetting to me that we shan’t see each other until the 16th, but what to do? — we have to let the young people live [their own life], too. Today I received a letter from Tanja,⁵⁶⁶ where she writes about leaving. I was very interested in the letters regarding [your] drama. Tanja also wrote that [(a)] it was read at Obolenskaja’s (D’jakova’s); [(b)] it will be read at Alexandrine Tolstaja’s,⁵⁶⁷ with [several] grand princes in attendance; and [(c)] everyone’s talking about it, all ecstatically. Today a pupil in Polivanov’s⁵⁶⁸ gymnasium was saying that Polivanov excitedly told his pupils about the drama in class and added that it will [prove to] be one of the most outstanding works of Russian literature. What the censorship board will do [about it], I have no idea. I know one thing, that I need to go to Petersburg and shall probably do so. Possibly this is also evident from the letter (I am enclosing) by this unknown lad, but his whole letter is strange and not reassuring. Why does he write that terrorists are starting to count you as one of their own? Only an idiot could fail to understand that everything you preach is diametrically opposed to terrorism, and that makes you terror[ism]’s worst enemy. What nonsense can be heard in Petersburg [these days] on both sides!

I’m not feeling well today, and my spirits are low. Then there’s [my brother] Sasha’s wedding which is confusing [me]. It will be tomorrow. For some reason Sasha has invited Arkadij Dmitrievich Stolypin⁵⁶⁹ to give away the bride. The wedding is illegal,⁵⁷⁰ [taking place] in the barracks, and here he’s asking the corps commander to give away the bride! I call that tactless. But I’m taking the opportunity of petitioning for Grisha,⁵⁷¹ who will be one of the ushers. He arrived yesterday from Suwałki⁵⁷² specifically to find out about a job. Sergej Nikolaevich will also be coming soon, no doubt.

These days are very busy ones for me. The proofreading has accelerated. It’s being done by anyone I can catch — if not Il’ja, then I go the Shidlovskijs’, or [even] visitors. Then there has been a lot to do regarding the edition [of Volume XIII]. So many old tangles to unravel. Add to that my visits, a lot of pattern-cutting, arranging for undergarments and dresses — all quite a bother, and I’m very tired. It’s high time for that idler Kolichka to return — or [at least] write [me] that he’s not returning — or else my duties will become too much for me.

Things are not going all that well with the Englishwoman. I changed my tone with her and became strict, which is very hard [on me]. The children are mostly with me or Madame Seuron. — We get along with Il’ja, Lëva and Masha, we feel each other out, and that’s quite good. Tomorrow, as long as there’s no snowstorm, I shall go skating with all my children, and then to the wedding in the evening. What are you busy with? And why do you call what you are writing a narrative? Keep on working, your fame has now ballooned to the maximum, and I’m delighted. I hope you are healthy and taking care of yourself. I’m writing [just] to you, and not to Tanja, since she’s probably left [by now]. Regards to everyone, hugs and kisses to Tanja, and to you, too. I’ll write another postcard. Farewell.

S. T.

10 January 1887. Evening.

Nº 137 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 186]
[11 April 1887. Moscow]

My terribly busy day today is finally over! I’m frightfully tired, and [my visitors] Stolypin and Vera Shidlovskaja, [along with] Serëzha, Tanja and Lëva are still here, playing vint. Last night I was doing proofreading until 3 a.m. Every day I get up right at 9 o’clock and manage to take tea with the children. This morning I went out shopping and on [other] errands, then at three o’clock the children of (Mitasha) Obolenskij,⁵⁷³ those of the Sverbeevs,⁵⁷⁴ the Nagornovs⁵⁷⁵ and our own, all got together to roll [Easter] eggs. I made for them two huge Van’ka-Vstan’kas [weighted dolls], and the competition generated tremendous excitement. Our [daughter] Sasha managed to hit one of them, and Katja Sverbeeva the other, and there was no envy [involved] — the egg-rolling was very good-natured, cheerful and lively.

Then everybody had dinner, and in the evening we all gathered at Tanja’s: Sonja Samarina,⁵⁷⁶ Liza Obolenskaja,⁵⁷⁷ Beklemisheva,⁵⁷⁸ Rachinskaja,⁵⁷⁹ various young people, [all in all] a huge crowd. — Vera Aleksandrovna [Shidlovskaja], Petja,⁵⁸⁰ our Liza⁵⁸¹ and others played vint; I was terribly listless and exhausted, I sat there yawning and, as always, comforted myself with the thought that it would all, of course, stop some time. Tomorrow there won’t be anyone around; I want Lëva’s day to be completely free of distraction before his studies, and I am persistently refusing all visitors.

On Tuesday of this coming week I’m going to Grot’s⁵⁸² lecture, and on Wednesday to the exhibit.⁵⁸³ Those will be my two pleasures.

Tomorrow Serëzha goes back to Tula; there’s some kind of performance going on there, to which he was called. Il’ja’s gone hunting for the day, once more to Krjukovo. Masha, the little ones and Lëva are all well and healthy.

Den⁵⁸⁴ showed up today, he’s very pleased with his stay at Yasnaya, and told about his stay in detail, what you did, what you ate, the warm [weather], and so forth.

You write that you would like to take a trip to see Khilkov⁵⁸⁵ — and I happened to say this in front of Masha Sverbeeva; and she says that she had been talking about him yesterday with his auntie, who told her that Khilkov has gone off somewhere to wander, or walk, as she put it; that he apparently took his drunk and dissolute father into his home, but it turned out his father had an illegitimate family [on the side] who had all moved to his mother’s estate — it was actually [Khilkov’s] farmstead, but still on his mother’s estate. Khilkov himself keeps a peasant woman whom he calls his wife, but since he is a Doukhobor, he doesn’t recognise the church or marriage. — What a fine kettle of fish this is! Everyone calls everything as they see it, and everyone lives in line with: “Don’t go against my nature!” — This is a very sad state of affairs: the victims are always the same — i.e. women and children. Sometimes it’s mothers, as in Khilkov’s case, sometimes it’s wives, like with Fejnerman, sometimes it’s daughters… A dark, dark people! Morally sick and miserable!

As for bidding adieu to Kolichka, I think he will get there without you, and if you really want to go somewhere, I think in this weather it is very dangerous for someone to travel if they are not in good health; in any case it is better to wait for a warm [day]. We hear about pneumonia everywhere, and people continue to die from it.

[Your] letter to Popov⁵⁸⁶ in prison was sent through Mikhail Nikolaevich Lopatin during Holy [Week].

If after a period of intense intellectual labour you feel the need of taking a trip, you don’t have to ask me. It’s up to you. Only you wouldn’t want to make the trip and not find Khilkov [at home].

Well, farewell, Lëvochka; again, it’s after two [in the morning]. Your letters, too, are impersonal. There’s nothing in them of an intimate nature, and nothing relating specifically to me. Only one thing is clear there — how confident you are that I am still living apart and do nothing but worry about you and your well-being. I await the promised written explanation of why you reproached me for not loving you the way I ought to… What if [I loved you] in no way? That would be undoubtedly more calming for you, and as for me — I don’t know, maybe more calming and cheerful for me, too. So send me this explanation, though after twenty-five years [I think] it’s too late to learn how one ought to love. Now, of course, to be a little calmer [about it] is best of all.

I shan’t move to Yasnaya Polyana any earlier than the 20th of May. The prospect of sharing my family life with Fejnerman is so difficult that [in a way I’d rather] not go at all. As to your living your life apart from us, I look at it this way: if you are healthy, contented and happy, that’s good enough. The children aren’t longing for the countryside either; evidently last summer⁵⁸⁷ has long lain like a heavy stone on everybody’s heart.

Today the girls are saying: “Let’s do everything the opposite of the way we did it last year, and it’ll be fine.”

Please, continue to take care of yourself, or you’ll start to feel worse again, and you can’t drink the [mineral] water — [the weather’s too] cold. Today I was at Ferrejn’s,⁵⁸⁸ I declined to have any water until May; oh and they also said that there had been no delivery of fresh water until now.

I’ll write [and ask for] the Posrednik books to be sent to Yasenki.

Hugs and kisses. I’m sleeping alone upstairs, and these nights are very wretched.

11 April 1887. Night.