I'm once again reading Tolstoy's War and Peace. While at the local bookstore, I spotted a new translation that beckoned me to experience the novel again. So far, this Anthony Briggs translation is excellent.

There is no other novel in the world like this one. All that is to be learned about the human condition is in it, but it is entertaining like nothing else is as well. It makes any other story, movie, play or televised series pale in comparison. Tolstoy gets to the heart of conversations, intrigues, expressions and silence. And the reader can see the appearance of the characters, feel their joy and pain, and share their shame and glory. It's incomparable.

Through the descriptions of characters, a reader learns society's rules or identifies with the already known. Lines like: "The viscount was a pleasant-looking young man with gentle features and manners, obviously full of his own importance, but modest enough, because of his good breeding, to indulge any company that he might find himself in." , or "Just as a skillful head waiter can pass off as a supreme delicacy a cut of beef that would be inedible if you'd seen it in the filthy kitchen, Anna Pavlovna served up to her guests that evening first the viscount and then the abbe' as if they were supreme delicacies." allow the reader to perceive the nuanced behavior of social situations perhaps not available to him. In this way a young reader learns as if schooled in this social circle himself.

Of course, the scope and reach of the novel is unparalleled, and the intimacy the reader experiences with a wide range of characters allows a familiarity that could otherwise not occur. Because we learn not only about their actions, but also about their desires and fears, we are able to experience characters in scenes with the eyes of a god. And, because of Tolstoy’s unquestioned genius, we are made privy to earth shattering events peopled with fascinating people that are more than worth our acquaintance.

Shakespeare and self-knowledge

This season I've been examining closely the two tragic masterpieces of Shakespeare: Hamlet and Macbeth. Yes, they are bottomless in their revelations about the human condition, so the rewards of further understanding are the products of close readings.

Should a man allow circumstances to cause him to turn against his moral code? Buddhism advocates perceiving one's reaction to circumstance as controlled only by the thoughts one chooses to have. It appears Shakespeare would agree. Only when Hamlet surrenders his moral nobility does he transgress against nature; his murders and emotional assassinations occur only after he deliberately surrenders and eschews the university bred code of behavior that, throughout the story, continues to be exhibited by his friend and university colleague, Horatio.

Can the modern reader learn from Hamlet's actions? Well, just imagine a world where all men knew the consequences of boorish and violent behavior.

Interestingly, this same lesson is hammered home in Macbeth, where the behavior is less transparent and more readily condemned. Unaware of murder's effect upon the soul, Macbeth and his wife recklessly pursue their lust for recognition and power. They kill their guest, the king, and a frantic spiral to hellish insanity begins. Lady Macbeth retreats from the fury with suicide, but Macbeth tries to fight it and slides precipitously further in his journey into the horror of pure evil. One cannot witness his fall without learning, as a child touching a hot stove, to beware acts that promise such horrendous results.

Reading Shakespeare will rock your world, and the result of the shake-up will benefit your understanding.

Every hiatus should have an end.

Alright, I guess seven months is enough of a respite. Expression demands activity, and I'm ready to oblige.

Have you ever experienced that ambivalence that drives and restrains at the same time? Confusion of purpose reigns in this state, leaving residual anxiety. The discomfort goes on and demands unearthing, but it buries itself well and can take some time to uncover. Well, I've dug and dug and found my need to write to be the villain; its neglect had hounded me, but it had failed to identify itself.