Tolstoi builds his novel on contrasts and comparisons, Anna and Kitty, Vronsky and Levin, Petersburg and Moscow and many more. By bringing his main characters into contact with one another he highlights them for us the reader. Choose one of the comparisons-contrasts and comment on who emerges in a more favorable light.
The comparison I found most intriguing was between Anna and Oblonsky. Both commit adultery, and have different consequences that seem inappropriate to their different situations. Oblonky chronically cheats on his wife, with multiple women and does not even see what he is doing wrong. He begs forgiveness from Dolly for his affair with the nanny, but he admits that he cannot understand what he actually needs to be forgiven for. Anna, on the other hand, is in a serious affair with one other man, and she certainly sees the guilt in her situation. She is distraught after she and Vronsky consummate their affair, and she admits multiple times later in the text that she does feel guilty and recognizes the wrong she has done her husband. With these two forms of adultery, Oblonsky receives no consequences, while Anna’s life comes crashing down around her. This is compelling to me because of its commentary on gender roles and rights in society, but also for society’s different treatment of the two situations. Anna is completely shunned from society, while Oblonsky continues as the completely agreeable and pleasant man. It actually mirrors how I would feel about an affair – if it’s just about sex, it is not as big a deal as if it is about love. Although I had not previously had this reaction, in reading Anna Karenina this time I felt much more strongly against Oblonsky than I ever had – I went from thinking he was a likable, nice man, to realizing that he is no better than Anna.
Vronsky and Levin are the two men vying for Kitty Shcherbatskaya affection at the beginning. They are immediately judged as suitable suitors for Kitty. Prince Shcherbatsky seems to have the correct impression of Vronsky at first. Princess Shcherbatsky on the other hand is blinded by Vronsky’s good looks and social charms; she thinks he is the one for Kitty, when he is not actually looking to marry anyone. I wouldn’t say Vronsky is a terrible person, but he definitely comes out a loser in this novel. He gives up everything for his affair with Anna; he is so overcome by his passions that he cannot keep himself under control. His idea that affairs are permissible and that married men are ridiculous are obviously not right. He also loves to speak French, which is probably why he is so unscrupulous. Levin on the other hand despises French and feels that Russians should speak Russian. So, he is obviously the man that gives the novel its moral direction and he is also a voice of reason. He forgives his friend Stepan for his infidelity, but personally knows that Stepan’s behavior is unacceptable, and his only hope in life is to be happily married to Kitty. Levin is an all around nice guy, who thinks a lot about the existence of God and death and other interesting things. He is one of the people in the novel I want to be happy in the end.
Tolstoy’s contrast of Vronsky and Levin provides an interesting insight into the differences between two important cross sections of Russian Society. As noted in Richard Pevear’s introduction, Levin is modeled on Tolstoy, thus he is very concerned with mortality, and overall operating on a philosophical plane typical of the Russian intelligentsia. Vronsky on the other hand seems to be all style and no substance. In the Shcherbatsky’s residence, Vronsky comes off less like an avid intellectual and more as a Pechorin-esque character. While Levin’s motives are entirely clear, Vronsky is the more adept socialite while also being less committed to Kitty. Vronsky’s mother would also seem to provide evidence for an established base of Vronsky’s philandering character. Levin most assuredly appears the more reputable character and the fact that he is persecuted by the princess Shcherbatsky and the Countess Nordston because of what they perceive to be his haughty manner but what is actually sound reasoning and warranted incredulity only makes the reader like him more. And of course as Erik noted, Levin speaks Russian not French, which of course indicates his superior moral character.
It is certainly true that we better evaluate the novel’s characters when they are situated side-by-side, and it is true that by pairing them one gets a strong sense of the contrast. But Tolstoy has a comparison running between three couples – Vronsky-Anna, Kitty-Levin, Dolly-Stepan – which seems to point at a kind of ethical arithmetic: Vronsky-Anna plus Dolly-Stepan either makes a horrible couple – an unwed, unloving couple – or it makes the perfect match, which is hands down Levin-Kitty.
So if there is a contrast it is certainly one of characters, but more powerfully the contrast between two ideas – love and, perhaps, social acceptance – seems strongest in light of the characters’ respective successes and failures. Vronsky and Anna are broken by the novel’s end – clearly, love is not enough on its own. One needs the sort of social responsibility that marriage can grant a couple, such as Stepan and Dolly. While not terribly happy, they survive to see their children grow up, which is more than we can say about Anna and Vronsky. To us, Dolly is in an infinitely better predicament than Anna. Nevertheless, we cannot help but see Dolly and her family as a failure beside Levin and Kitty, precisely because they have taken the two contrasting qualities and somehow combined them: love, which is in its nature somewhat selfish, and marriage, which (as a contractual arrangement between individuals and society) binds people to a communal set of values to safeguard it from harm. If we learn anything, it’s that Anna’s love (which is somewhat selfish, and in the end not enough, as she had thought) is dangerous without some sort of check. The ripples from her actions affect everyone, but the worst is that it creates a terrible sort of ambiguity that grips all characters, an ambiguity that makes moving forward nearly impossible.
Tolstoi gives an interesting perspective on males by representing two men with contrary tastes, marrying sisters from the same family. Levin is a man of plain tastes; while out with Oblonsky, Tolstoi notes: “Levin ate the oysters, though white bread and cheese would have been more to his liking” (35). However Oblonsky has a taste for oysters, a common aphrodisiac. Later Tolstoi plainly points out that Oblonsky has “a bachelor’s tastes, and they alone guided him” (260).
Also their values concerning family are starkly different. Levin is in love with the idea of family — he attaches extreme value to the finding a wife and settling down in the country to raise a family with her. Levin places the women he likes up on an almost unattainable pedestal: “the place where [Kitty] stood seemed to [Levin] unapproachably holy” (28). It is ironical that for a man to whom marriage “was the cheif concern of life, on which all happiness depended” struggles so with marriage (95), while a more wild character like Oblonsky has a marriage he is not fully invested in for his “bachelor’s tastes” are more important to him.
Perhaps Tolstoi is giving us two different archetypes of the husband – the faithful in the case of Levin and the unfaithful in Oblonsky. While Levin is satisfied by the plain and is academic and perfectionist in his pursuits (the placing of Kitty on a pedestal is such a poetic drive), Oblonksy would rather rollick in pleasures than serve as a husband. Their contrasting characteristics certainly reflect their capacity for faithfulness as lovers.
Kitty is extraordinarily impressed by Anna’s female beauty, her serenity and maturity. Kitty puts her on a pedestal as a heroine and through her so does Tolstoy. And indeed, next to this elegant woman she looks like a young girl, who is trying to find the role, she wants but to be admired and to please.
With Anna and Vronski’s affair, the pristine picture of Anna gets stained and questioned. We find that her marriage is dysfunctional, that she is not happy and that she is jeopardizing the reputation of her entire family for what seems to be just a fling. And she withers away with the burden she has. Kitty all the while becomes a perfect wife, busies herself in her new home, and becomes pregnant. Levin and her are very happy, but she still seems shallow and concerns with how she is perceived.
She is much weaker in her path than Anna. Anna chose the life that would make her happy, she went against all conventions and followed her heart, she rose above society and decided to have it her way. What makes her the tremendous heroine that she is, is the way she goes about this transition. She does not do so cold-heartedly. The feelings of other are always on her mind and she does consider and evaluate them. She is a great tragic character, which manifest itself by combining her strength in character and will with the passion, hear and conscience she has, even though she loses the battle in the end.
Materialistically as well as in the eyes of society Anna loses and Kitty wins, but Anna is more humane and had the strength to consult her heart and mind in how to live her life, rather than obey to society.
There is an interesting contrast/comparison to be made between the two adulterous males Vronsky and Oblonsky. They are pleasure-seeking men of the leisure class with subtle differences. Vronsky, a military officer, engages in exciting pursuits such as horse-racing and pursues the object of his affection with single-minded passion. Vronsky also has some disconcerting traits – his treatment of Kitty, the distress he caused her as a result of her rejection on Levin, and his unfortunate pursuit of Anna. He seems to be the best example of the semi-troubled male protagonist in the novel. I can see some of Pechorin’s detachment from the world in him. It’s notable that Vronsky is a bachelor and thus for him there is less personally at risk than for Anna, Oblonsky or Oblonsky’s mistresses.
On the other hand Oblonsky is a bureaucrat, family man and epicure. More than anything Oblonsky is candid and practical. He favors Vronsky as a suitor to Kitty because of his social aptitude. His affairs are short-lived and pleasure. While his affair with the governess throws his family into temporarily chaos it seems to be a horrible though endurable situation for his family.
Who comes out better? It’s tough to tell. On an intellectual and romantic level I whole-heartedly find Vronsky more sympathetic, but there is something about Oblonsky’s candor that doesn’t strike me as emotionally as Vronsky’s transgression does. Perhaps it has something to do with expectations, which Oblonsky disappoints early on and Vronsky later.
One of the comparisons we have yet to touch upon here is that of the victims of the two acts of adultery, Dolly and Karenin. While both of them are faced with the same situation in their marriages, their viewpoints on the issue and their resulting reactions differ greatly. The book begins with Dolly’s revelation that her husband Stiva has betrayed her with a former nanny. It is quickly apparent that she is distraught, not simply because of the act committed, but because Stiva no longer loves her as well. Dolly, however, is still in love with him, and despite being unable to speak with him as we enter the novel, she remains under his persuasion. This is exemplified by her conversation with Anna, Stiva’s sister; although they may be friends, the meeting between the women is of Oblonsky’s design, and the forgiveness that ensues is all too calculated on his part.
On the other hand, we have Karenin, who learns of Anna’s deception while returning home in their carriage. After learning of this, it is interesting to note that Karenin does not despair over love lost, as does Dolly, but is more concerned over how is consequential actions will affect his political reputation. The disparate reactions between the two are partially explained by Tolstoy — Dolly married for love, while Karenin never had any — but these basic facts seem to be extended to the extreme, in Karenin especially. He strays a bit into the bizarre, in his attempt to maintain the convenience of his marriage to Anna; resisting the divorce that would improve everyone’s life (except for his public one, or so he fears), Alexei Karenin believes himself to be perfectly content in maintaining his marriage, on a visible level, to his pregnant wife, so long as Vronsky does not extend the affair into his home. While Dolly cannot bear her adulterous spouse, Karenin cares only of damage control.
The polarization here is stark, however as Hillary talked about in her post, this touches on gender biases in society at the time. For even if Dolly were not in love with Stiva, she would still rightly be upset, as women did not have much of a social future after divorce, especially those with many children. This was not really the case for men; Stiva would have no problem continuing his ways after marriage.
The juxtaposition of Anna and Kitty is one of the hardest to decipher. They are two characters that not only come out in bad light with redeeming qualities; they also come out in good light but with a few blemishes. Anna is held up at the beginning as the paragon of womanhood. She is a good wife, a great mother, respected in society, and virtuous. Kitty is young, impetuous, and has seemingly lost all hope of love. However, as the story unfolds this begins to change. Anna loses her virtue and has an affair, while Kitty and Levin’s romance begins to start anew. For someone who does not expect monogamy, Anna clearly comes out in a better light, and indeed it is unclear what Tolstoy wants the reader to think at this point. However, I for one, think that Kitty is better, if only because Anna had an affair. Kitty represents much that is challenging about women, the uncertainty, and vacillation between interests, and she hurts Levin (who comes across as quite a good/pitiable guy). However, Kitty is faithful and is herself hurt by that same decision that affected Levin so deeply. Before Levin saw Kitty again and realized that he never stopped loving her, I thought that Anna might be the better character, but I am as of now, a firm supporter to Kitty. Kitty looks up to Anna as an example of high-class Russian womanhood, but Anna certainly has her own lessons to learn from Kitty (though ironically she helped Kitty a great deal by luring Vronsky away).
I was particularly struck by the contrast between Anna and Dolly. They articulate two opposed avenues of misery for Russian married women; Anna commits adultery and Dolly suffers her husband’s. Dolly is painted from the beginning in a moderately unflattering light, as rather stupid, aging, and incapable of securing her husband’s love. She is clearly unhappy, but she tries to hold things together and keep up the pretense. Anna, on the other hand, is beautiful and intelligent, and her husband loves her, but she finds her life unsatisfying. Both women are devoted mothers, but while Dolly stays with Oblonsky partly for the sake of her children, Anna is forced to sacrifice her relationship with Seryozha in order to be with Vronsky. Both women, of course, are unhappy, although Dolly arguably less so. Tolstoy presents us with two halves of the problem of infidelity, demonstrating that, for the woman, at least, there is no way out, no good answer. Women are doomed to misery, whether they are committing the adultery or not.
In my reading there is no question who comes across as the better man between Vronsky and Levin. Vronsky has everything in the world going for him. He has status, wealth, family, connections, and attributes of his character such as his ease in society, courage in arms, and physical strength of appearance that make every opportunity available to him. Yet, Vronsky chooses to squander his time with members of the regiment, doing nothing for his own betterment or the betterment of others, but simply remaining where he is easily loved and respected. Despite being charming and showing his absolute devotion to Anna (at this point in the novel), it is difficult to trust him to be consistent or have any moral compass from his cavalier actions.
Levin, on the other hand, is easy to have confidence in. He wears his emotions blatantly on his sleeve, and seems to be incapable of concealment or deceit. He is not adept at playing society games, and so comes across as taciturn, erratic, and unpleasant in company. These descriptions are accurate, but there is a childlike sincerity and curiosity in him that hints at goodness of his character within, as opposed to Vronsky’s outward shell of amiability.
When Vronsky interacts with Levin at the Scherbatsky household he shows nothing but good qualities, and yet I cannot help but sympathize with Levin. Vronsky plays the role of politely bemused victim while Levin is obviously portrayed as unsocial, awkward, and hostile. However, Vronsky’s air of absolute confidence contrasting with Levin’s self-conscious frustration makes the latter far more appealing.
One of the most interesting comparisons from the beginning of the book is the comparison between the well-off Vronsky and the hard-working Levin. He meet these two opposing characters seeking the love of Kitty, yet no one triumphs over the other. Levin who decides to propose and proclaim his love to Kitty is denied while Vronsky, the man Kitty is waiting for, decides to leave for Saint Petersburg after falling madly in love with Anna Karenina. Vronsky is a man of the higher classes and has an easy entrance into the world of high class and fancy balls. While Levin lives in the countryside, sowing and harvesting in his farm with the help of the peasants.
I would have to say Levin is in the favorite light for me. I feel pity for him but also since he is hard working and more of the sort of lower high class I feel for him and his denial from Kitty. Vronsky is the more snobbish, womanizer who leads Kitty on but then turns around and chases Anna Karenina.
Although they have not come in contact up to this point in the book, I found the comparison between Alexei Karenin and Dolly quite revealing about the characters themselves along with revealing something very accurate in day-to-day life. Karenin and Dolly have polar opposite reactions to their cheating spouses. Dolly goes into hysterics, immediately seeming as if she wants permanent separation. However, once the calming influence of Anna sets in, Dolly learns to live with the habits of her husband for her and her children’s sake. Their relationship is strained but open and seemingly accepting. Karenin, however, reveals keeps the highest level of control during and after the time his wife reveals her infidelities to him. Instead of being rightfully furious, Karenin shuts down on his emotions, his humanity, in order to become some almost soulless mechanization, refocusing on his work and remaining in a terribly futile state of denial. Anna keeps up the façade of her marriage to Karenin but never commits to him in anyway instead hating him for his cold, reasoning nature. The result is the absence of a relationship. Anna’s hate grows for Karenin, who slowly grows more and more unstable. In my mind, Dolly is the person, who acts more reasonably. Karenin doesn’t even attempt to repair his relationship with Anna; instead, he almost forces his marriage upon her. Dolly moves on and sustains a relationship, although a meager one with her husband, who in turn does the same.
However, what is most stunning for me with these two relationships is how hyper-realistic they seem to be. Tolstoy in his polarized characterizations reveals human weaknesses that we see readily in our own lives.
I see Levin and Anna as counterparts to each other. Levin is almost a symbol of national identity; he cares very much for farming, raising livestock, and managing his ancestral estate. He sees people from cities as superficial and frivolous, and dislikes them very much for that reason. For him, life in the country is something almost noble, a haven where people can go to leave the sinful city life. Anna, on the other hand, is a symbol of quite the opposite. She is a product of the superficial city life Levin looks down on. The two characters, however, are arguably the most honest and genuine ones in the novel. Anna is a passionate woman who responds to her inner instincts and Levin an authentic traditional, religious Russian man who represents, or who in my opinion Tolstoy thinks should represent, his country. Both are in a way searching for their purpose in life throughout the novel (or what I’ve read of it), but Anna seems to be more restricted, seeing as she is a woman whose top priorities should include having/raising babies and taking care of her household. As a result Anna is shown in a more negative light, I think. Levin loves manual labor, farming, and being close with the peasants. He is above all a sensual (maybe carnal?) realist man, not in a sexual way but rather in a tactile, corporal way. Next to him, Anna seems like a pretty frivolous housewife who made some bad choices (i.e. committing adultery with the wrong guy).
I find the contrast between Anna and Stiva to be the most interesting. Not only are the two siblings, but they are also the two adulterers of the novel, as has been pointed out by others before me. At first, there is a stark contrast between the two. Stiva is in the midst of a domestic mess due to his wife’s discovery of his extramarital affair, while Anna is portrayed as being far more morally upright, empathizing with Dolly, though also with Stiva. Here, the fact that they are siblings serves to highlight the contrast in character. Anna is cast as the responsible one who does right by her family. It appears that the majority of her ability to sympathize with Stiva stems directly from their familial ties rather than shared values. At this point in the novel, I half expected Anna to be permanently cast in the role of the righteous individual constantly dealing with the moral failings of those around her.
But this is a Russian novel and “good” characters are boring. At least, they surely cannot be a novel’s namesake. The contrast between Stiva and Anna disappears very quickly. Starting nearly at the moment of Anna’s supreme morality, she begins to fall. Anna’s relationship with Vronsky rapidly becomes less innocent. Although the actual consummation of their love is quite a long time in coming, it is clear that the nature of their relationship is deceitful and socially unacceptable. During Anna’s fall, Stiva makes a rise, and contrast is again apparent. He plays the role of a satisfactory husband. All is temporarily harmonious in Dolly and Stiva’s home. Stiva is temporarily lifted above Anna morally.
Once Anna is finally living alone with Vronsky, Stiva is back to his flirtatious and deceitful ways. The two are on even footing. By this point, the constant flux illustrates that the two are really quite similar in their behavior- both exhibit hedonistic tendencies from which they cannot escape despite a concerted effort to do so. As of now, it is unclear which will finish on top, but my bet is on Stiva, as he has thus far maintained his marriage and social standing. He is not likely to lose it this far into the book. Meanwhile, it is difficult for me to imagine that Anna will receive a clean break or fresh start, without which she will certainly remain a social outcast. This will always be a source of unhappiness.
As many have talked about before me, I think the central dichotomy of energies in the earlier parts of this book is focused on the triangle of Vronsky, Levin, and Kitty. Knowing of Tolstoy’s prejudices for the country and a wholesome way of life it is easy to side with Levin as one of the emergent victors in the novel. At one point, when he is working in the field with his scythe he experiences a sort of cleansing rapture. The fact that he has this purifying work and land to come back to means that no matter what befalls him in life he will always be rejuvenated. Meanwhile Vronsky’s glittering facade crumbles as he makes a mistake in his horse race and kills his mare. His mistakes will not be forgiven or cleansed.
I am interested in seeing how Kitty’s story is going to unfold as she seems to be being torn between these varying influences. Also, the dynamic between Oblonsky and Anna, how their honor is constantly fluctuating shows the difficulty of escaping from a habitual mode of behavior.
I tried to find something that hasn’t yet been written about for today’s blog, so how about the comparison between Karenin and Vronsky. Obviously, they are related because they both either have or want Anna at different points in what we’ve read so far, and on the surface they seem quite different. Karenin is depicted as formal and even sometimes dull – I was perplexed as to why he wasn’t more upset when he first met Vronsky and suspected that Vronsky was hoping to be with Anna. Vrosnky, on the surface, seems much more passionate – he travels to St. Petersburg on a whim to follow Anna! However, a comparison between the two makes me wonder whether Vronsky is closer than we think to Karenin. Thus far, we have not gotten much background information on Vronsky, nor does it seem like he has revealed the depths of who he is to anyone. This to me sounds more like Karenin, and even though I’m only about halfway done, Tolstoy seems to be adding even more tragedy to Anna’s already tragic character. Anna wears her heart on her sleeve, and the fact that even in an affair her lover seems oddly cold surely highlights the way in which her ideals seem to be broken down.
Since I am the last to post, I have decided to only read the first three blog posts before I write in order to avoid stealing others’ ideas. Apologies if what I write has been written earlier.
There is a stark contrast between the behavior of Anna and Kitty in the story, but their common theme of jealousy of their significant others links them inextricably.
While Kitty is properly married to her “suitable” husband and accepted in high society, Anna is living as a societal leper with her lover in the country. While Anna is living a lavish lifestyle, from her clothing choices to the furnishing of her home, Kitty is leading a life of country simplicity in an aristocratic but modest home. Kitty enjoys the domestic life while Anna is suffocating without her society.
Despite these clear differences in temperament, taste and propriety, Anna and Kitty both succumb to one of the most dangerous of the seven deadly sins – jealousy. When Vronksy begins to leave more often and associate with other women, Anna becomes consumed with jealousy of his freedom and of the women who he is paying attention to. Ironically, Kitty becomes jealous of Anna when Levin becomes infatuated with Anna. Despite her own jealousy of Vronsky, Anna continually flirts with young male visitors.
This common thread of jealousy illuminates the connection between Anna and Kitty – they are both women with social and romantic power who are trying to hold on to it. Dolly, the third member of the female “Anna Karenina” trifecta, has lost her physical charm and thus her husband to infidelity. If the differences and similarities between Anna and Kitty tell me anything, it is that the place of a woman in this society is insecure.
Levin and Vronsky are both people that Kitty felt different degrees of affection for. I think Levin definitely emerges in a more favorable light; first of all, he is an honest and hard worker. Although he is of noble status, he shuns the superficiality of high society, and prefers to live among the common folks who work for him, and treat them as equals. Secondly, he was rejected by Kitty, which makes the reader sympathize with him.
Vronsky, on the other hand, is what we now call a “player”. He is not aware of why he attracted Kitty, but just that he does, and he enjoys and plays with the attention. He is a puppet of passion, and readily breaks Kitty heart so that he could pursue Anna. He convinces her to commit adultery, though one can argue that he provides respite to Anna from an unhappy marriage. Nevertheless, his actions make him out as a shallow and unreliable.
But just to be critical, I don’t think Levin would have been the best husband for Kitty. He’s down to earth, and would never play around with girls like Vronksy does, but he wants a wife simply because he thinks it’s about time he got married, and Kitty was the only available girl that he knew. I don’t think he really knows how to love. He was caught up in fantasies and infatuation. What disturbed me was the huge age gap between him and Kitty. His recollections of Kitty before he went to Moscow were of her as a little girl – many years before she reached 18.
Oblonsky and Levin are set up by Tolstoy as both a contrast and a comparison. Upon introducing their first meeting, even his language (“in spite of” recurs, “loved” is mirrored by “despised”) bears out a strange dichotomy: “They loved each other, in spite of the difference in their characters and tastes, as friends love each other who become close in early youth. But in spite of that, as often happens between people who have chosen different ways, each of them, while rationally justifying the other’s activity, despised it in his heart.” (17) Stepan first encourages Levin to go for Kitty, ensuring him he will succeed, then backs Vronsky’s proposal once they’ve met. Oblonsky and Levin’s mutual feelings epitomize perhaps a love-hate relationship. Where Stiva’s charm and politics make him amiable to most, Levin’s awkwardness and countrified taste makes him the weaker man in city society. At this point in the book (and likely also at its end), however, Oblonsky comes off as less favorable, even sleazy. He has cheated on his wife, doesn’t know why he should feel guilty about it, and does shady business deals of which Levin does not approve. Other posters have remarked that Levin is modeled after Tolstoy himself, which would explain the abundance of positive traits (honest, humble, communitarian, faithful to his love for Kitty) in him. Although Levin is glad at one point of the ill he hopes he might have caused Kitty, he eventually grows disillusioned with his peasants and country-life, longing in a way I presume Stiva never had to do (toward Dolly) after Kitty. She is so close yet rejected his proposal of marriage—and this tension is tangible, unlike the Stiva’s hollow affection for his wife. Just the tortuous nature of Levin’s reflections and plight set him up to emerge in the more favorable light, compared to the somewhat conscience-less, opposite, yet friendly Oblonsky. Stepan’s side of the friendship may empower Levin at times, but Levin’s portion actually feels morally righteous and ultimately good.
As I’m writing this post after everyone, it is hard for me to come up with an original take. Yes, Anna and Stiva serve as interesting counterparts in relation to their committing adultery, and yes Vronsky and Levin demonstrate different aspects of Russian society. I’d like to take this in a different direction—I feel that the contrast and juxtaposition of country and city acts as a central point of focus throughout the book. I’m not exactly sure what point in the novel we’re supposed to be addressing, but I will briefly summarize. Tolstoy seems to have represented the country in the most positive light—it is in this setting that we see the most familial happiness, the most individual freedom. In the city, however, one is confronted with the issues of an intellectually conflicted society—a society filled with pressure to conform to the overarching authoritarian norm. Ultimately, I think Tolstoy intends for the country to emerge victorious, as I believe that elements that strictly belong to the city contribute to Anna Karenina’s eventual destruction.