Publication
New York : W.W. Norton, c1983.
Call number
Biography / Tolst
ISBN
0393314758 / 9780393314755
Original publication date
1882
Collections
Physical description
95 p.; 20 cm
Description
This work marks the author's movement from the pursuit of aesthetic ideals toward matters of religious and philosophical consequence. The poignant text describes Tolstoy's heartfelt reexamination of Christian orthodoxy and subsequent spiritual awakening. Generations of readers have been inspired by this timeless account of one man's struggle for faith and meaning in life.
Language
Original language
Russian
User reviews
LibraryThing member absurdeist
Say what you will about Leo Tolstoy post-Anna Karenina. Say he completely lost it as a writer (and his marbles too), as most critics, far more subtly, say. Say the once singularly incisive and dynamic Russian master had gone out of his creative freaking mind. Say he turned his back forever on his
So, say what you want: Say he went insane (and perhaps you'd be partially correct in saying so; I mean, how could a man not be forever happy and content having composed War and Peace?), but don't say his Confession, that in 93 packed pages, explains, in harrowing, psychologically minute detail, his spiritual crisis of identity and purpose, that took him - one of the most successful and famous writers of his time (of any time) - to the brink of suicide, isn't as dramatic a reading experience as the tomes he's most famous for.
His Confession chronicles his interior transformation from high-society-minded artist to peasant, and how during the process the option of suicide became for him the most rational reaction to what he considered his "joke of a life; his empty and meaningless life," the very brilliant life, that is, that had authored two of the most renowned novels ever created, War and Peace and Anna Karenina. Incredible in the light of his accomplishments, how low he'd sunk inside. His Confession outlines his emotional and philosophical descent - and eventual ascent from suicide - in terse, conversational style. Like talking to a friend, reading Tolstoy's Confession.
I think Tolstoy's Confession is one of the most fascinating psychological odysseys I've ever read, documenting a person's darkest despair and then unexpected U-turn of rebirth and revival. Based on just the writing in his Confession, I think it'd be difficult to argue that Tolstoy had gone insane, as some attest he did. For the writing is remarkably lucid and concise. His self-analysis is rational. His arguments and reasoning, logical. Granted, he wrote it after, not during his crisis, so knowing the exact state of his mind when he was literally in despair; when he was in the moment, suicidal, is probably not precisely knowable or attainable. But Tolstoy, nevertheless, painted quite the unpretty interior picture (think Edvard Munch's, The Scream) of a mind and a man about to implode.
Thank God Tolstoy lacked what he describes as "the courage" to commit suicide, but instead persevered through his year-and-a-half long crisis, and came out on the other, brighter side, maybe not as the Leo Tolstoy anybody recognized (or even wanted), but as a man, nonetheless, who in the least, drilled a great hole through the darkness of suicidal despair with his still mighty pen, and a hole big enough that maybe future others who've found themselves in similar, suicidal predicaments, might crawl, led by Tolstoy's words, through. And live.
I can't fault a man who, on the brink of suicide, finds a reason to live. I can't fault him even if his rationale for living, like Tolstoy's, seems, well, odd, or unorthodox, or counter intuitive to my sensibilities; and I can't fault him any further even if it means that man, the genius, will disappoint the masses and never output another classic again.
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Art at the age of fifty; turned his back on his very name that had become synonymous with Greatness; and embraced, in place of the fame and fortune and accolades, an idiosyncratic, self-styled monastic hybrid of asceticism, Christianity, and a rigorous social consciousness that abandoned the trappings and accoutrements of wealth in favor of an obsessive obedience to peasant life - to a strict adherence to "the faith of the poor" - from which he resurrected meaning and a sense of purpose to his life. Once his life, he realized, was no longer just about satisfying the dictates of his desires, but about living humbly among the poor, he could be happy. Apparently, all the literary success a person could ever imagine or hope for, wasn't enough (not nearly enough) to fulfill Tolstoy and to induce inner peace; rather, success and its material benefits became an albatross, in his mind, stuffed with the existential weight of meaninglessness, that nearly snuffed him out.So, say what you want: Say he went insane (and perhaps you'd be partially correct in saying so; I mean, how could a man not be forever happy and content having composed War and Peace?), but don't say his Confession, that in 93 packed pages, explains, in harrowing, psychologically minute detail, his spiritual crisis of identity and purpose, that took him - one of the most successful and famous writers of his time (of any time) - to the brink of suicide, isn't as dramatic a reading experience as the tomes he's most famous for.
His Confession chronicles his interior transformation from high-society-minded artist to peasant, and how during the process the option of suicide became for him the most rational reaction to what he considered his "joke of a life; his empty and meaningless life," the very brilliant life, that is, that had authored two of the most renowned novels ever created, War and Peace and Anna Karenina. Incredible in the light of his accomplishments, how low he'd sunk inside. His Confession outlines his emotional and philosophical descent - and eventual ascent from suicide - in terse, conversational style. Like talking to a friend, reading Tolstoy's Confession.
I think Tolstoy's Confession is one of the most fascinating psychological odysseys I've ever read, documenting a person's darkest despair and then unexpected U-turn of rebirth and revival. Based on just the writing in his Confession, I think it'd be difficult to argue that Tolstoy had gone insane, as some attest he did. For the writing is remarkably lucid and concise. His self-analysis is rational. His arguments and reasoning, logical. Granted, he wrote it after, not during his crisis, so knowing the exact state of his mind when he was literally in despair; when he was in the moment, suicidal, is probably not precisely knowable or attainable. But Tolstoy, nevertheless, painted quite the unpretty interior picture (think Edvard Munch's, The Scream) of a mind and a man about to implode.
Thank God Tolstoy lacked what he describes as "the courage" to commit suicide, but instead persevered through his year-and-a-half long crisis, and came out on the other, brighter side, maybe not as the Leo Tolstoy anybody recognized (or even wanted), but as a man, nonetheless, who in the least, drilled a great hole through the darkness of suicidal despair with his still mighty pen, and a hole big enough that maybe future others who've found themselves in similar, suicidal predicaments, might crawl, led by Tolstoy's words, through. And live.
I can't fault a man who, on the brink of suicide, finds a reason to live. I can't fault him even if his rationale for living, like Tolstoy's, seems, well, odd, or unorthodox, or counter intuitive to my sensibilities; and I can't fault him any further even if it means that man, the genius, will disappoint the masses and never output another classic again.
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LibraryThing member DarkWater
In these existential confessions, Tolstoy, at the pinnacle of his career and life, explains how his life “came to a stop” as he came to believe he had accomplished nothing in life and existence was meaningless. Why should I live? Is there any meaning in my life that will not be destroyed by my
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inevitably approaching death? “I searched for an answer to my questions in every area of knowledge acquired by man. For a long time I carried on my painstaking search; I did not search casually, out of mere curiosity, but painfully, persistently, day and night, like a dying man seeking salvation. I found nothing.” He also took to observing other people to see how they responded to this absurdity and found his peers escaping this problem in either ignorance, epicurianism, suicide, or weak survival. Tolstoy feebly chose the latter, holding on to an obscure doubt, a hope of something more. As Carruth writes, “The mind of man, which he did not ask to be given, demands a reason and a meaning”. Confession personifies our search for more than just vague answers to questions of meaning which are so vital to man’s existence. Show Less
LibraryThing member antiquary
As a fairly conventional mainstream Christian, it is probably natural that I very much liked the first part of Confession, which brilliantly dissects the still highly recognizable failings of the secular educated elite --it is often hard to remember this was describing events in the 1830s or so .
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On the other hand, it is also very natural I was made uncomfortable by the latter part of the Confession and nearly all of "What is Religion?" which explains why Tolsoy, having already rejected atheism, now went on to reject conventional religion and especially the Russian Orthodox Church. While on some points I can say, "Well, yes, 19th century Russian Orthodoxy was a state church which indulged in persecution in ways that are irrelevant to the modern American churches (even modern American Orthodoxy, of which I am quite fond, though not Orthodox myself). But in other ways I must admit that his critique could be justly applied to modern Christians as well. Some of it I think simplistic --calling the mass of believers "hypnotized" by tradition, for instance --but on some points he must be taken seriously, notably the failure of many Christians (particularly myself) to live up to the faith they profess. Whether the belief system he ends up with can still be called reigion, let alone Christianity, is very doubtful --I suspect many modern secularists would be more comfortable with it than many modern Christians --but there is no mistaking the excruciatingly painful honesty with which he did his best to work out and then live up his beliefs.(Though on the living up to, as the foreword remarks, he did no better in some respects than other fallible humans, especially where his poor wife was concerned.) Show Less
LibraryThing member ringman
Shortly after completing Anna Karenina Tolstoy returned to religion, not the russian othodox church of his youth (Which excommunicated him), but to what seems to be to be a very minimal belief system. It nevertheless had a profound effect on both his life and his writing.
A confession, the first of
I found his arguments against other positions considerably better than those he gives in favour of his own. The work is useful as background in understanding the change in Tolstoy, but is not a major contribution to theology or philosophy.
The introduction makes clear that his conversion did have a profound effect on his life, not all for the better from the point of view of his wife. It also caused major change in his writing. Though probably I am in a minority I prefer the later works The Death of Ivan Ilych and Resurrection to his admittedly great works War and Peace and Anna Karenina.
A confession, the first of
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the two works n this book was written at this time, and explains his reasoning. The second part - What is Relegion - writen 20 years later, gives more on his views while attacking all organized religions. I found his arguments against other positions considerably better than those he gives in favour of his own. The work is useful as background in understanding the change in Tolstoy, but is not a major contribution to theology or philosophy.
The introduction makes clear that his conversion did have a profound effect on his life, not all for the better from the point of view of his wife. It also caused major change in his writing. Though probably I am in a minority I prefer the later works The Death of Ivan Ilych and Resurrection to his admittedly great works War and Peace and Anna Karenina.
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LibraryThing member TakeItOrLeaveIt
Reading Tolstoy's A Confession was a rite-of-passage as much as Leo's ultimate retrospective was for him, for me. Well, not quite because I'm still in my self-indulgent phase not ready to become an aesthetic and a believer in purpose and meaning found through faith. The first 3/4 of this is some of
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the best introspective writing I have ever read, then...faith takes over. Still, Leo is the man. Show Less
LibraryThing member wandering_star
Tolstoy recounts how his faith grew out of a situation of total despair. As a youth, he was taught the tenets of religion, but by the age of eighteen he did not believe in any of them. He spent his early adult life proudly rational, a believer in progress, delighted in his own fame and cultivation.
"The questions seemed so stupid and simple, like questions asked by children. But the moment I faced up and tried to resolve them I became immediately convinced, first that they were not childish or stupid questions, they were the most important and profound questions in life, and, second, that however much thought I gave to them I could not, could not, resolve them. Before I could sort out my estate in Samara, my son's education or the writing of a book, I needed to know what I would be doing it for."
Tolstoy entered a state of total despair, convinced that life was empty and meaningless. The only way he resisted suicide was to tell himself that he needed to make a real effort to try and work out the puzzle - and that if he couldn't find a meaning, there would be plenty of time for him to kill himself in the future. "So there I was, a man favoured by fortune, removing rope from the room where every night I got undressed alone, to make sure I didn't hang myself from the beam that ran between the wardrobes".
Eventually, his effort leads him to faith, and the book moves on to the way that he developed his belief system.
A Confession is vivid, and powerfully written. I think the reason that it didn't work for me is entirely personal. I am happily and uncomplicatedly an atheist, and the fact that there is nothing outside this life does not cause me to despair. Tolstoy characterises his peers as fitting into four groups: "people who didn't understand the question; people who did understand the question, but blotted it out in an orgy of living; other people who did, and who put an end to their lives; or people who also did, but lived on in desperation, out of weakness." I guess I would be in the first category. And because of this, the tremendous repetitiveness of Tolstoy's self-examination began to get to me. I think if I was reading it as philosophy, or as a way of developing my personal views on meaningfulness, this repetition would have been a positive benefit, providing plenty of space for contemplation. And so I would certainly recommend this to anyone who would read it with those things in mind.
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Creeping doubts, however, led him to question the meaning of everything he had devoted his life to. "The questions seemed so stupid and simple, like questions asked by children. But the moment I faced up and tried to resolve them I became immediately convinced, first that they were not childish or stupid questions, they were the most important and profound questions in life, and, second, that however much thought I gave to them I could not, could not, resolve them. Before I could sort out my estate in Samara, my son's education or the writing of a book, I needed to know what I would be doing it for."
Tolstoy entered a state of total despair, convinced that life was empty and meaningless. The only way he resisted suicide was to tell himself that he needed to make a real effort to try and work out the puzzle - and that if he couldn't find a meaning, there would be plenty of time for him to kill himself in the future. "So there I was, a man favoured by fortune, removing rope from the room where every night I got undressed alone, to make sure I didn't hang myself from the beam that ran between the wardrobes".
Eventually, his effort leads him to faith, and the book moves on to the way that he developed his belief system.
A Confession is vivid, and powerfully written. I think the reason that it didn't work for me is entirely personal. I am happily and uncomplicatedly an atheist, and the fact that there is nothing outside this life does not cause me to despair. Tolstoy characterises his peers as fitting into four groups: "people who didn't understand the question; people who did understand the question, but blotted it out in an orgy of living; other people who did, and who put an end to their lives; or people who also did, but lived on in desperation, out of weakness." I guess I would be in the first category. And because of this, the tremendous repetitiveness of Tolstoy's self-examination began to get to me. I think if I was reading it as philosophy, or as a way of developing my personal views on meaningfulness, this repetition would have been a positive benefit, providing plenty of space for contemplation. And so I would certainly recommend this to anyone who would read it with those things in mind.
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LibraryThing member IronMike
"A Confession" was first published in 1882 and there have been many publishings since then. My comments refer to the new publication from Hesperus Classics. The Hesperus version, although a paperback, is a unique addition to the fold. The book itself, (the contents of the book aside for the
As for the contents of the book: I have developed a practise of skipping over prologues and introductions etc., and going right to the text. When I've finished reading the text I go back and read the introductions etc. If you decide to read this book I recommend that you do the same...skip the Foreword and the introduction. The Foreword by Helen Dunmore is quite good, as is the Introduction by Anthony Briggs (who is also the translator,) but they reveal parts of the book which I would prefer to get direct and first-hand from the author. Revealing some text from the book in a Foreword or Intro is almost inevitable, and doing so is not Ms. Dunmore's or Mr. Briggs's fault. In fact, I INSIST that you read their comments. I only suggest that you hold off till Tolstoy has his say. Ms. Dunmore, in fact, in her first page told me two things about Tolstoy of which I had been previously unaware, and I thank her. Mr. Briggs contextualizes much of what Tolstoy has said, giving the book a solid historical and philosophical footing, but they do give things away, such as Tolstoy's tale of falling into a well, which I would rather come upon in the text.
The subject of the book (actually, two books: A Confession, followed by What is Religion) is the eternal one of "Why was I born? Why am I living? What should I do? My life seems sort of dreary...should I maybe just hang myself? Or shoot myself?
I think I gave more than one eternal question there. Sorry. But cheer up; the books are not as dreadful as those questions portend. In fact, there were several points in the book at which I erupted in laughter or guffaws at strange hours of the morning and may have startled my neighbors from their slumbers. For instance, Tolstoy, wondering why he hasn't already commited suicide, wonders: "I can see now that if I did not commit suicide it was because of a vague sense that my reasoning might be flawed." Tolstoy lived till he was 82. I guess that "vague sense that (his) reasoning might be flawed" was pretty strong.
(Yes, I know: I've just done what I've previously chastised Helen Dunmore and Anthony Briggs for doing...I've quoted from the book before you had a chance to read it. Sorry about that.)
When I see a book with "Religion" in the title, or with subject matter such as suicide, I immediately turn away. But Tolstoy is Tolstoy. You are guaranteed to get your money's worth from Leo's musings.
Does Tolstoy answer the question of personal existence? I don't think so. But he does come close. At one point he says Solomon and Schopenhauer believe the answer is ...(I won't give it away) but Tolstoy is'nt satisfied by Solomon and Schopenhauer, and he presses on. For my money, I would have stopped right where Solomon and Schopenhauer did.
The most amusing lines in the book were about Louis IX's belly-aches, and the Sumsky Hussars. I'm not telling you more than that. Enjoy life.
I rate the Hesperus Classics edition of Tolstoy's "A Confession" a strong four stars.
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moment,) is very attractive. The cover is designed like a dust-jacket for a hard cover book. This is a simple idea, but I've never seen it before, and I like it. I liked it so much that I went to the publisher's website to see if all the Hesperus Classics were similarly designed. But the website was "under construction," which leads me to believe that Hesperus may be a new publisher, and if this is so, I wish them well. Their idea seems to be to make the lesser known works of the great writers available in an attractive format and at a reasonable price...a noble ambition.As for the contents of the book: I have developed a practise of skipping over prologues and introductions etc., and going right to the text. When I've finished reading the text I go back and read the introductions etc. If you decide to read this book I recommend that you do the same...skip the Foreword and the introduction. The Foreword by Helen Dunmore is quite good, as is the Introduction by Anthony Briggs (who is also the translator,) but they reveal parts of the book which I would prefer to get direct and first-hand from the author. Revealing some text from the book in a Foreword or Intro is almost inevitable, and doing so is not Ms. Dunmore's or Mr. Briggs's fault. In fact, I INSIST that you read their comments. I only suggest that you hold off till Tolstoy has his say. Ms. Dunmore, in fact, in her first page told me two things about Tolstoy of which I had been previously unaware, and I thank her. Mr. Briggs contextualizes much of what Tolstoy has said, giving the book a solid historical and philosophical footing, but they do give things away, such as Tolstoy's tale of falling into a well, which I would rather come upon in the text.
The subject of the book (actually, two books: A Confession, followed by What is Religion) is the eternal one of "Why was I born? Why am I living? What should I do? My life seems sort of dreary...should I maybe just hang myself? Or shoot myself?
I think I gave more than one eternal question there. Sorry. But cheer up; the books are not as dreadful as those questions portend. In fact, there were several points in the book at which I erupted in laughter or guffaws at strange hours of the morning and may have startled my neighbors from their slumbers. For instance, Tolstoy, wondering why he hasn't already commited suicide, wonders: "I can see now that if I did not commit suicide it was because of a vague sense that my reasoning might be flawed." Tolstoy lived till he was 82. I guess that "vague sense that (his) reasoning might be flawed" was pretty strong.
(Yes, I know: I've just done what I've previously chastised Helen Dunmore and Anthony Briggs for doing...I've quoted from the book before you had a chance to read it. Sorry about that.)
When I see a book with "Religion" in the title, or with subject matter such as suicide, I immediately turn away. But Tolstoy is Tolstoy. You are guaranteed to get your money's worth from Leo's musings.
Does Tolstoy answer the question of personal existence? I don't think so. But he does come close. At one point he says Solomon and Schopenhauer believe the answer is ...(I won't give it away) but Tolstoy is'nt satisfied by Solomon and Schopenhauer, and he presses on. For my money, I would have stopped right where Solomon and Schopenhauer did.
The most amusing lines in the book were about Louis IX's belly-aches, and the Sumsky Hussars. I'm not telling you more than that. Enjoy life.
I rate the Hesperus Classics edition of Tolstoy's "A Confession" a strong four stars.
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LibraryThing member TheCrow2
Tolstoy's A Confession consists his two essays about his view of religion. He was raised as a Russian Orthodox but in his young age became an atheist. After it he always felt his live missing something felt his life meaningless. After long years of struggling he returned to religion but it was his
The Hesperus paperback edition's a neat volume. The cover's simple but nice and it has two interesting forewords about the essays.
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own. He distinguish the organized religions and some kind of 'true faith'. Although IMHO he asking the wrong questions and got to false answers, his intellect guarantees a fascinating journey through his life and mind.The Hesperus paperback edition's a neat volume. The cover's simple but nice and it has two interesting forewords about the essays.
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LibraryThing member kswolff
Book Review: A Confession by Leo Tolstoy
Near the end of his life, Count Leo Tolstoy wrote two lengthy essays on the topic of religion. Hesperus Press includes these two essays, “A Confession” (1879 – 1882) and “What is Religion, and What Does its Essence Consist of?” (1902). The edition
Tolstoy would revisit the religious theme in “Father Sergius” (written in 1890, published in 1898), an excruciatingly introspective tale of sensual temptation, religious duty, and personal mutilation. With “A Confession” and “What is Religion?”, Tolstoy works within the conventions of the non-fiction essay, having renounced his early fictional works (War and Peace, Anna Karenina, and Resurrection) as so much literary dross. “A Confeession” is an autobiographical essay and a moral reckoning, coming to terms with a life filled with personal wealth, family, friends, knowledge, and a nagging spiritual emptiness. The entire essay pivots on the existential quandary, “So what?” He cites long passages from Ecclesiastes and the life of Gautama Buddha to drive the point home. In the end, following years in the intellectual wilderness of the sciences and philosophy, he returns to the fold of the Russian Orthodox Church, albeit not without some personal reservations. The moral guidance of the Church draws him in, but the obscure rituals and ceremonies repel him.
Tolstoy wrote “What is Religion?” as an ambivalent believer. Ambivalent in the sense he remained skeptical of the trappings of the Russian Orthodox Church, the state-sponsored church of the Russian Empire. (The separation of state being a Western notion and one explicitly written in the First Amendment of the United States Constitution.) Tolstoy asserts that since religion is part of man’s relationship with the infinite, man can only be moral when man has religion. (One can argue this point and with the specter of nuclear jihad and Bible-believing domestic terrorists, one probably should question this assertion. Tolstoy, like his fellow Russian compatriot, Ayn Rand, does not hold a monopoly on infallibility.) He hedges his assertion by differentiating the gaudy opulence and arcane rituals to “false religion” and the primitive simplicity of the peasants to “true religion.” While the sincerity of state-sponsored careerist clerics is always under suspicion, Tolstoy resembles Rousseau and cinematic hack James Cameron in his assumption that “true religion” is found among the peasants. This is not a far cry from the condescending notion of the Noble Savage and benevolent supernaturalism of the Na’vi in Avatar. For a writer as gifted with genius as Tolstoy, this patronizing generalization could only come from an aristocrat with wealth and privilege. Besides having a peasant’s view of faith, one should also have a personal relationship with God. But since the personal is the subjective, how can “true religion” be the same for all? In the end, it can be distilled to an issue of personal taste. Unfortunately with state-sponsored churches (and similar theocracies), personal taste takes a back seat to rigid dogma and slavish obedience. Every authoritarian and totalitarian regime learned this lesson from religion models. Only when church and state get decoupled can “true religion” and a personal relationship with God be achieved.
Overall, the Hesperus edition is a wonderful compact presentation of Tolstoy’s thoughts on spirituality. While Dunmore’s foreward is excellent, Brigg’s introduction appears as nothing more than an elaborate ad hominem attack on Friedrich Nietzsche. Just because Nietzsche went insane at the end of his life does not negate the power of his philosophy. Another demerit to this particular volume for its miserly footnotes, especially in terms of more obscure points in Russian history and the Russian Orthodox Church. If these volumes are intended for non-specialists, it would be beneficial for these points to be explained.
Near the end of his life, Count Leo Tolstoy wrote two lengthy essays on the topic of religion. Hesperus Press includes these two essays, “A Confession” (1879 – 1882) and “What is Religion, and What Does its Essence Consist of?” (1902). The edition
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includes a foreward by novelist and Orange Prize winner Helen Dunmore with an introduction by famed Tolstoy translator Tony Briggs.Tolstoy would revisit the religious theme in “Father Sergius” (written in 1890, published in 1898), an excruciatingly introspective tale of sensual temptation, religious duty, and personal mutilation. With “A Confession” and “What is Religion?”, Tolstoy works within the conventions of the non-fiction essay, having renounced his early fictional works (War and Peace, Anna Karenina, and Resurrection) as so much literary dross. “A Confeession” is an autobiographical essay and a moral reckoning, coming to terms with a life filled with personal wealth, family, friends, knowledge, and a nagging spiritual emptiness. The entire essay pivots on the existential quandary, “So what?” He cites long passages from Ecclesiastes and the life of Gautama Buddha to drive the point home. In the end, following years in the intellectual wilderness of the sciences and philosophy, he returns to the fold of the Russian Orthodox Church, albeit not without some personal reservations. The moral guidance of the Church draws him in, but the obscure rituals and ceremonies repel him.
Tolstoy wrote “What is Religion?” as an ambivalent believer. Ambivalent in the sense he remained skeptical of the trappings of the Russian Orthodox Church, the state-sponsored church of the Russian Empire. (The separation of state being a Western notion and one explicitly written in the First Amendment of the United States Constitution.) Tolstoy asserts that since religion is part of man’s relationship with the infinite, man can only be moral when man has religion. (One can argue this point and with the specter of nuclear jihad and Bible-believing domestic terrorists, one probably should question this assertion. Tolstoy, like his fellow Russian compatriot, Ayn Rand, does not hold a monopoly on infallibility.) He hedges his assertion by differentiating the gaudy opulence and arcane rituals to “false religion” and the primitive simplicity of the peasants to “true religion.” While the sincerity of state-sponsored careerist clerics is always under suspicion, Tolstoy resembles Rousseau and cinematic hack James Cameron in his assumption that “true religion” is found among the peasants. This is not a far cry from the condescending notion of the Noble Savage and benevolent supernaturalism of the Na’vi in Avatar. For a writer as gifted with genius as Tolstoy, this patronizing generalization could only come from an aristocrat with wealth and privilege. Besides having a peasant’s view of faith, one should also have a personal relationship with God. But since the personal is the subjective, how can “true religion” be the same for all? In the end, it can be distilled to an issue of personal taste. Unfortunately with state-sponsored churches (and similar theocracies), personal taste takes a back seat to rigid dogma and slavish obedience. Every authoritarian and totalitarian regime learned this lesson from religion models. Only when church and state get decoupled can “true religion” and a personal relationship with God be achieved.
Overall, the Hesperus edition is a wonderful compact presentation of Tolstoy’s thoughts on spirituality. While Dunmore’s foreward is excellent, Brigg’s introduction appears as nothing more than an elaborate ad hominem attack on Friedrich Nietzsche. Just because Nietzsche went insane at the end of his life does not negate the power of his philosophy. Another demerit to this particular volume for its miserly footnotes, especially in terms of more obscure points in Russian history and the Russian Orthodox Church. If these volumes are intended for non-specialists, it would be beneficial for these points to be explained.
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LibraryThing member jsoos
A Confession is Tolstoy's autobiographical essay questioning the meaning of life. His evolution from warrior to writer to working with the peasants led him to question logic and reason - billions of people do not react logically to the "life is meaningless" position. Why? - because they have faith.
He believes we need to abandon the comforts of life, work hard, show humility and show patience to adversity and charity to others ("truth is revealed in love.") These are the simple tenants to life as opposed to formalized religion which stresses sacraments, church services, fasting and bowing to the icons.
The Hesperus edition includes both Tolstoy's Confession (1879-1882) with his essay "What is religion" (1902). What is Religion, is in part, Tolstoy's answer to the questions raised 20 years earlier in his Confession. The combining of these two essays into a single voume is excellent.
Tolstoy tries to determine the basic truth of religion. Two quotes from the essay best express the essay:
"Faith is man's awareness of his place in the universe".
"Religion is the relationship between man the the infinity he feels himself part of, and from this he derives his code of conduct."
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In fact, "where there is life, there is faith". Tolstoy comes to the conclusion that faith is the life force (vs the need to maintain a church).He believes we need to abandon the comforts of life, work hard, show humility and show patience to adversity and charity to others ("truth is revealed in love.") These are the simple tenants to life as opposed to formalized religion which stresses sacraments, church services, fasting and bowing to the icons.
The Hesperus edition includes both Tolstoy's Confession (1879-1882) with his essay "What is religion" (1902). What is Religion, is in part, Tolstoy's answer to the questions raised 20 years earlier in his Confession. The combining of these two essays into a single voume is excellent.
Tolstoy tries to determine the basic truth of religion. Two quotes from the essay best express the essay:
"Faith is man's awareness of his place in the universe".
"Religion is the relationship between man the the infinity he feels himself part of, and from this he derives his code of conduct."
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LibraryThing member Brasidas
Fascinating! Tolstoy here reflects on the emptiness of his early life--military service, writing ambition, fitness/strength frenzy, etc.--and his subsequent loss of God. He does not see how he can go on in midlife without both the materialistic and spiritual ways denied him. What follows is a
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contemplation of death---a horror!---floridly expressed. He touches on both the fear and the inevitability in such a way that had this reader feeling terribly sorry for all his fellow humans' final "indignity." Buddhists, especially, though not solely, should find the book absorbing. It crystalizes a kind of consciousness which we as a species are only now, slowly, glacially slowly, beginning to leave behind. Will we make it? Will some future watershed event catapult us into an enlightened future? In other words, will compassion win the day? Show Less
LibraryThing member ElizabethAndrew
I'm so excited to discover this little window into Tolstoy's faith! How have I missed it? I love his commonsensical approach to faith: Start from bare experience; pay attention to what works--that is, what gives meaning to life--and from there draw conclusions about the nature of God and the place
"But I do want to understand in order that I might be brought to the inevitably incomprehensible; I want all that is incomprehensible to be such not because the demands of the intellect are not sound (they are sound, and apart from them I understand nothing) but because I perceive the limits of the intellect. I want to understand, so that any instance of the incomprehensible occurs as a necessity of reason and not as an obligation to believe."
--Tolstoy, Confession, 91
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of the church. Faith is a response to the questions of life (64), not a social construct or a proscribed creed. I wish more writers laid bare their inner struggles with such clarity."But I do want to understand in order that I might be brought to the inevitably incomprehensible; I want all that is incomprehensible to be such not because the demands of the intellect are not sound (they are sound, and apart from them I understand nothing) but because I perceive the limits of the intellect. I want to understand, so that any instance of the incomprehensible occurs as a necessity of reason and not as an obligation to believe."
--Tolstoy, Confession, 91
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LibraryThing member countrylife
Starting with the question, “What is the meaning of life?”, Tolstoy manages to reason himself into “life is evil”, may as well commit suicide. The tortuous twists of reasoning to get to such an answer seemed UNreasonable to me. But it’s HIS confession, so be it. Only in the last pages
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does he get to the part of his life where his reason leads him to faith. Interesting to look into the great mind. Show Less
LibraryThing member ctpress
This a fascinating account of Tolstoys search for answers to the basic existential questions - who am I, and what is the meaning of my life? He was depressed for a long time as he rejected science and philosophy to answer his search for truth and meaning. Also, leaving a lot of orthodox beliefs and
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church dogmatic but finding an answer in the simple life of faith that the peasants and poor people display. Show Less