Kisses

Day 66 of A Year of War and Peace

Musical counterpoint, think Bach’s Two-Part Inventions, is the relation of two or more harmonically interdependent voices that are independent in rhythm and pitch contour. I like to think of this chapter, the first chapter of Book Two, and yesterday’s reading, the closing chapter of Book One, as a type of literary counterpoint. Yesterday we died a little bit with Prince Andrei. Today we live, very much so, with the happy Rostov family reunited once again back home in Moscow. We’ll see, however, that though these chapters are independent in theme and tone, there is a certain interdependence to them and probably a reason why Tolstoy set them off against each other.

Their independence is manifest from the very beginning. We left Prince Andrei dying in a field alone contemplating the meaninglessness of existence. We pick up with Rostov, newly mustachioed, so very happy to be returning home to Moscow. His joy is nothing in comparison to that which he’s about to meet with from his family when they learn of his arrival.

Kisses.

That’s pretty much the whole of this chapter: Kisses. Kisses for Rostov. Kisses for Denisov. Kisses from Natasha. Kisses from Petya. Kisses even from old man Rostov. Kisses from everybody and kisses for everybody. Kisses all around.

Even when the deluge of kisses abates after a good night’s sleep the joy and exuberant happiness afforded by Nikolai’s return home continues. Rostov spends the morning in joyous talk with his sister Natasha about what he’s missed during his months away in service. He learns that Sonya and Natasha have decided that he is to be free of Sonya. That is, he should not feel obliged and trapped into marrying her as he said he would before he left. Sonya wants his decision to be made freely. And Natasha has already forgotten about her childish infatuation with Boris.

The upshot here, then, is the jubilation of a family united.

DAILY MEDITATION

Counterpoint: Prince Andrei, it appears, is not coming home to his family. So while in Moscow the Rostov’s rejoice, in Bald Hills a despairing pallor has probably set over the Bolkonsky estate.

Why?

Attachment, most likely. After all, the common denominator here is the presence or absence of a loved one. Our loved ones play such an important role in our emotions and well-being. But maybe they shouldn’t. They don’t, after all, belong to us and their lives are not under our control.