Anna Karenina

Stepan Arkadyevitch walks into Karenin's room with unusual solemnity, feeling an unfamiliar sense of embarrassment - perhaps his conscience telling him what he's about to suggest is wrong. He's come to discuss Anna's situation and push for divorce. But Karenin has been thinking about the same thing. He hands Stiva an unfinished letter he's been writing to Anna, knowing his presence irritates her. The letter is devastating in its nobility: 'I see that my presence is irksome to you. Painful as it is to me to believe it, I see that it is so.' He promises he's resolved to forget everything, that he wants only her happiness and peace of soul. 'I put myself entirely in your hands, and trust to your feeling of what's right.' Stiva is so moved by this generosity that tears choke him. Karenin wants to know what Anna wishes, but Stiva says she's crushed by Karenin's generosity and can't even think clearly. When Stiva suggests there must be a way out, Karenin says he sees no possible way. The word comes out finally - divorce. Karenin reacts with aversion: 'Divorce' - as if the word itself disgusts him. But Stiva presses on: it's the most rational course when married people find life together impossible. What seems simple to Stiva, however, is utterly impossible to Karenin. He's thought about it thousands of times, and every angle leads to ruin. First, divorce would require him to take on false charges of adultery, which offends both his dignity and his religious principles. It would mean catching Anna in the act and subjecting her to public shame. Second, what becomes of Seryozha? Leaving him with Anna means the boy grows up in an illegitimate family. Keeping him would be an act of vengeance. But the deepest problem goes beyond all this: Karenin believes that consenting to divorce would completely ruin Anna. He remembers Dolly's words in Moscow - that in seeking divorce, he's thinking only of himself, not considering how it would destroy Anna irrevocably. In Karenin's mind, giving Anna a divorce means giving her freedom to join Vronsky in what would become 'an illegitimate and criminal tie' since ecclesiastical law doesn't recognize a wife's remarriage while her husband lives. 'In a year or two he will throw her over, or she will form a new tie,' Karenin thinks. 'And I, by agreeing to an unlawful divorce, shall be to blame for her ruin.' He's thought it through hundreds of times. But he also knows that Stiva's words represent 'that mighty brutal force which controlled his life and to which he would have to submit' - the force of social reality that will eventually crush his principled resistance. When Stiva presses him about the terms of divorce, asking him to be generous about what Anna wants, Karenin thinks with horror about taking the blame on himself in court. Then a biblical verse comes to him: 'Whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.' In a shrill voice, breaking with emotion, he cries out: 'Yes, yes! I will take the disgrace on myself, I will give up even my son, but... but wouldn't it be better to let it alone?' He turns away so Stiva can't see him weeping, sitting by the window. In his heart are bitterness and shame, but also joy and emotion 'at the height of his own meekness.' He's sacrificing himself completely, taking all the public disgrace, losing his son, destroying his position - all to free Anna, even though he believes this freedom will ruin her. Stiva is genuinely touched. He tells Karenin that Anna appreciates his generosity, then awkwardly adds 'it was the will of God' - immediately recognizing how foolish that sounds. Karenin wants to reply but tears stop him. As Stiva leaves, he's moved by what happened, but he's also glad he 'successfully brought the matter to a conclusion.' He's so pleased with himself that he's already composing a riddle about his achievement to share with friends later. The chapter reveals the tragic irony at the heart of this situation: Karenin's very nobility makes resolution impossible until social pressure forces his hand. His Christian virtue, his concern for Anna's spiritual welfare, his paternal love - none of it can solve the problem. In fact, his goodness is precisely what's keeping everyone trapped. Stiva, the shallow hedonist, succeeds where deeper souls fail because he doesn't agonize over moral consequences. He just wants things resolved so everyone can move on. Meanwhile, Karenin sits alone by the window, weeping over a sacrifice that he knows will save no one.