"War and Peace" Was All, Like, Really Long, And I Think Russia Won

"Pierre gazed at the door through which she had disappeared and did not understand why he suddenly felt all alone in the world."

Reading "War and Peace" can be described less as a venture than as a quest, a personal mission of some kind. Over several months, I took on this 1,400-page monster, working my way into the blended stories of the War of 1812 and the aristocratic nature of early 19th-century Russia. Leo Tolstoy's epic masterpiece (originally titled "War: What is it good for?", according to Elaine in perhaps the greatest Seinfeld episode of all time, "The Marine Biologist") was originally published in 1869, and is credited in many quarters for breaking a lot of existing conventions and perceptions of the novel form.

Labeled as historical fiction, "War and Peace" is also a love story, a morality tale, a coming of age piece on Pierre Bezukhov and Natasha Rostov ("She turned round. For a few seconds they gazed silently into one another's eyes—and what had seemed impossible and remote suddenly became possible, inevitable and very near."), and a condemnation of the caste system in place in the Europe of the time. This enormous story featured myriad themes, including first-person accounting of wartime, a realistic painting of Napoleon Bonaparte, slight racism (" … the disorder was readily and naturally attributed to the stupid Germans, and everyone was convinced that a dangerous muddle had been occasioned by the sausage-eaters."), a historical blush and other techniques that were basically unheard-of at the time.

The book is largely informed by Tolstoy's own upbringing as a member of the privileged class; he was always bucking against his unearned lot in life, always seeking for a simpler way of getting along in the world. Tolstoy was somewhat obsessed with examining the dichotomy between the depravity and horrors of war and the gentile nature and hypocritical approach of aristocratic life. He also was intent on defining his theories about the militaristic philosophy then abounding throughout Europe:

"An inner voice tells us we are in the wrong if we are idle. If man could find a state in which he felt that though idle he was fulfilling his duty, he would have found one of the conditions of man's primitive blessedness. And such a state of obligatory and irreproachable idleness is the lot of a whole class—the military. The chief attraction of military service has consisted and will consist in this compulsory and irreproachable idleness."

With its voluminous length and the hard work required to complete it, "War and Peace" has basically become synonymous with any supremely long, boring or insanely difficult work. Even the largely unfunny Woody Allen once said, "I read 'War and Peace' in 20 minutes. It involves Russia."

Initially, I was drawn to this read by a desire to familiarize myself with Tolstoy's work and to simply be able to say that I freaking read "War and Peace." Gradually, though, I began to get sucked into the story—especially the statements on the proceedings of the Moscow elite—and to recognize Tolstoy's profound brilliance and unique style. Hopefully, working my way through this novel will help me summon the strength to one day tackle James Joyce's epic "Ulysses."

I think I'll need to throw in a few comics and Stephen King books in the meantime, though.