An excerpt from the original text.(complete · 1791 words)
viazhsky took Levin’s arm, and went with him to his own friends.
This time there was no avoiding Vronsky. He was standing with Stepan
Arkadyevitch and Sergey Ivanovitch, and looking straight at Levin as he
drew near.
“Delighted! I believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you ... at
Princess Shtcherbatskaya’s,” he said, giving Levin his hand.
“Yes, I quite remember our meeting,” said Levin, and blushing crimson,
he turned away immediately, and began talking to his brother.
With a slight smile Vronsky went on talking to Sviazhsky, obviously
without the slightest inclination to enter into conversation with
Levin. But Levin, as he talked to his brother, was continually looking
round at Vronsky, trying to think of something to say to him to gloss
over his rudeness.
“What are we waiting for now?” asked Levin, looking at Sviazhsky and
Vronsky.
“For Snetkov. He has to refuse or to consent to stand,” answered
Sviazhsky.
“Well, and what has he done, consented or not?”
“That’s the point, that he’s done neither,” said Vronsky.
“And if he refuses, who will stand then?” asked Levin, looking at
Vronsky.
“Whoever chooses to,” said Sviazhsky.
“Shall you?” asked Levin.
“Certainly not I,” said Sviazhsky, looking confused, and turning an
alarmed glance at the malignant gentleman, who was standing beside
Sergey Ivanovitch.
“Who then? Nevyedovsky?” said Levin, feeling he was putting his foot
into it.
But this was worse still. Nevyedovsky and Sviazhsky were the two
candidates.
“I certainly shall not, under any circumstances,” answered the
malignant gentleman.
This was Nevyedovsky himself. Sviazhsky introduced him to Levin.
“Well, you find it exciting too?” said Stepan Arkadyevitch, winking at
Vronsky. “It’s something like a race. One might bet on it.”
“Yes, it is keenly exciting,” said Vronsky. “And once taking the thing
up, one’s eager to see it through. It’s a fight!” he said, scowling and
setting his powerful jaws.
“What a capable fellow Sviazhsky is! Sees it all so clearly.”
“Oh, yes!” Vronsky assented indifferently.
A silence followed, during which Vronsky—since he had to look at
something—looked at Levin, at his feet, at his uniform, then at his
face, and noticing his gloomy eyes fixed upon him, he said, in order to
say something:
“How is it that you, living constantly in the country, are not a
justice of the peace? You are not in the uniform of one.”
“It’s because I consider that the justice of the peace is a silly
institution,” Levin answered gloomily. He had been all the time looking
for an opportunity to enter into conversation with Vronsky, so as to
smooth over his rudeness at their first meeting.
“I don’t think so, quite the contrary,” Vronsky said, with quiet
surprise.
“It’s a plaything,” Levin cut him short. “We don’t want justices of the
peace. I’ve never had a single thing to do with them during eight
years. And what I have had was decided wrongly by them. The justice of
the peace is over thirty miles from me. For some matter of two roubles
I should have to send a lawyer, who costs me fifteen.”
And he related how a peasant had stolen some flour from the miller, and
when the miller told him of it, had lodged a complaint for slander. All
this was utterly uncalled for and stupid, and Levin felt it himself as
he said it.
“Oh, this is such an original fellow!” said Stepan Arkadyevitch with
his most soothing, almond-oil smile. “But come along; I think they’re
voting....”
And they separated.
“I can’t understand,” said Sergey Ivanovitch, who had observed his
brother’s clumsiness, “I can’t understand how anyone can be so
absolutely devoid of political tact. That’s where we Russians are so
deficient. The marshal of the province is our opponent, and with him
you’re ami cochon, and you beg him to stand. Count Vronsky, now ...
I’m not making a friend of him; he’s asked me to dinner, and I’m not
going; but he’s one of our side—why make an enemy of him? Then you ask
Nevyedovsky if he’s going to stand. That’s not a thing to do.”
“Oh, I don’t understand it at all! And it’s all such nonsense,” Levin
answered gloomily.
“You say it’s all such nonsense, but as soon as you have anything to do
with it, you make a muddle.”
Levin did not answer, and they walked together into the big room.
The marshal of the province, though he was vaguely conscious in the air
of some trap being prepared for him, and though he had not been called
upon by all to stand, had still made up his mind to stand. All was
silence in the room. The secretary announced in a loud voice that the
captain of the guards, Mihail Stepanovitch Snetkov, would now be
balloted for as marshal of the province.
The district marshals walked carrying plates, on which were balls, from
their tables to the high table, and the election began.
“Put it in the right side,” whispered Stepan Arkadyevitch, as with his
brother Levin followed the marshal of his district to the table. But
Levin had forgotten by now the calculations that had been explained to
him, and was afraid Stepan Arkadyevitch might be mistaken in saying
“the right side.” Surely Snetkov was the enemy. As he went up, he held
the ball in his right hand, but thinking he was wrong, just at the box
he changed to the left hand, and undoubtedly put the ball to the left.
An adept in the business, standing at the box and seeing by the mere
action of the elbow where each put his ball, scowled with annoyance. It
was no good for him to use his insight.
Everything was still, and the counting of the balls was heard. Then a
single voice rose and proclaimed the numbers for and against. The
marshal had been voted for by a considerable majority. All was noise
and eager movement towards the doors. Snetkov came in, and the nobles
thronged round him, congratulating him.
“Well, now is it over?” Levin asked Sergey Ivanovitch.
“It’s only just beginning,” Sviazhsky said, replying for Sergey
Ivanovitch with a smile. “Some other candidate may receive more votes
than the marshal.”
Levin had quite forgotten about that. Now he could only remember that
there was some sort of trickery in it, but he was too bored to think
what it was exactly. He felt depressed, and longed to get out of the
crowd.
As no one was paying any attention to him, and no one apparently needed
him, he quietly slipped away into the little room where the
refreshments were, and again had a great sense of comfort when he saw
the waiters. The little old waiter pressed him to have something, and
Levin agreed. After eating a cutlet with beans and talking to the
waiters of their former masters, Levin, not wishing to go back to the
hall, where it was all so distasteful to him, proceeded to walk through
the galleries. The galleries were full of fashionably dressed ladies,
leaning over the balustrade and trying not to lose a single word of
what was being said below. With the ladies were sitting and standing
smart lawyers, high school teachers in spectacles, and officers.
Everywhere they were talking of the election, and of how worried the
marshal was, and how splendid the discussions had been. In one group
Levin heard his brother’s praises. One lady was telling a lawyer:
“How glad I am I heard Koznishev! It’s worth losing one’s dinner. He’s
exquisite! So clear and distinct all of it! There’s not one of you in
the law courts that speaks like that. The only one is Meidel, and he’s
not so eloquent by a long way.”
Finding a free place, Levin leaned over the balustrade and began
looking and listening.
All the noblemen were sitting railed off behind barriers according to
their districts. In the middle of the room stood a man in a uniform,
who shouted in a loud, high voice:
“As a candidate for the marshalship of the nobility of the province we
call upon staff-captain Yevgeney Ivanovitch Apuhtin!” A dead silence
followed, and then a weak old voice was heard: “Declined!”
“We call upon the privy councilor Pyotr Petrovitch Bol,” the voice
began again.
“Declined!” a high boyish voice replied.
Again it began, and again “Declined.” And so it went on for about an
hour. Levin, with his elbows on the balustrade, looked and listened. At
first he wondered and wanted to know what it meant; then feeling sure
that he could not make it out he began to be bored. Then recalling all
the excitement and vindictiveness he had seen on all the faces, he felt
sad; he made up his mind to go, and went downstairs. As he passed
through the entry to the galleries he met a dejected high school boy
walking up and down with tired-looking eyes. On the stairs he met a
couple—a lady running quickly on her high heels and the jaunty deputy
prosecutor.
“I told you you weren’t late,” the deputy prosecutor was saying at the
moment when Levin moved aside to let the lady pass.
Levin was on the stairs to the way out, and was just feeling in his
waistcoat pocket for the number of his overcoat, when the secretary
overtook him.
“This way, please, Konstantin Dmitrievitch; they are voting.”
The candidate who was being voted on was Nevyedovsky, who had so
stoutly denied all idea of standing. Levin went up to the door of the
room; it was locked. The secretary knocked, the door opened, and Levin
was met by two red-faced gentlemen, who darted out.
“I can’t stand any more of it,” said one red-faced gentleman.
After them the face of the marshal of the province was poked out. His
face was dreadful-looking from exhaustion and dismay.
“I told you not to let anyone out!” he cried to the doorkeeper.
“I let someone in, your excellency!”
“Mercy on us!” and with a heavy sigh the marshal of the province walked
with downcast head to the high table in the middle of the room, his
legs staggering in his white trousers.
Nevyedovsky had scored a higher majority, as they had planned, and he
was the new marshal of the province. Many people were amused, many were
pleased and happy, many were in ecstasies, many were disgusted and
unhappy. The former marshal of the province was in a state of despair,
which he could not conceal. When Nevyedovsky went out of the room, the
crowd thronged round him and followed him enthusiastically, just as
they had followed the governor who had opened the meetings, and just as
they had followed Snetkov when he was elected.
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Let's Analyse the Pattern
Using physical or mental exhaustion to temporarily silence deeper emotional or existential questions that demand attention.
Why This Matters
Connect literature to life
This chapter teaches how to recognize when increased activity masks unresolved emotional conflicts.
Practice This Today
This week, notice when you suddenly get 'busy' after difficult conversations or uncomfortable realizations—that's your cue to pause and ask what you're avoiding.
Now let's explore the literary elements.
Key Quotes & Analysis
"He wanted to forget himself in sleep, in work, in anything that would make him unconscious."
Context: Describing Levin's desperate attempt to escape his thoughts through physical exhaustion
This shows how Levin is treating his spiritual crisis like a problem that can be solved through avoidance. He's not trying to find answers - he's trying to stop asking questions.
In Today's Words:
He just wanted to work so hard he'd pass out and not have to think about anything.
"The harder he worked, the more clearly he felt that the questions that tormented him were not to be solved by work."
Context: Levin's realization that physical labor isn't actually helping his mental state
Tolstoy shows the futility of trying to solve internal problems with external solutions. The harder Levin runs from his thoughts, the more obvious it becomes that he can't outrun them.
In Today's Words:
The more he tried to stay busy, the more he realized staying busy wasn't going to fix what was really wrong.
"Why live? Why wish for anything, when everything ends in death?"
Context: The fundamental question haunting him despite his attempts to avoid it through work
This is the core of Levin's existential crisis - the feeling that death makes everything meaningless. No amount of physical work can answer this philosophical question.
In Today's Words:
What's the point of anything if we're all just going to die anyway?
Thematic Threads
Avoidance
In This Chapter
Levin uses backbreaking physical labor to escape his spiritual crisis and suicidal thoughts
Development
Escalated from earlier intellectual pursuits and family focus—now desperate physical escape
In Your Life:
You might recognize this when you suddenly feel compelled to deep-clean the house rather than have a difficult conversation.
Class
In This Chapter
Levin works alongside peasants, temporarily dissolving class boundaries through shared physical labor
Development
Continues his ongoing struggle with his privileged position and search for authentic connection
In Your Life:
You might find yourself more comfortable with certain groups when you're all focused on the same immediate task.
Identity
In This Chapter
Levin tries to lose himself in work, hoping to escape the burden of being himself
Development
Deepened from earlier identity confusion—now actively trying to erase his sense of self
In Your Life:
You might recognize this urge when you fantasize about disappearing into a completely different life.
Desperation
In This Chapter
The intensity of Levin's physical labor reflects his mental desperation for relief
Development
New level of urgency—previous attempts at meaning-making have failed
In Your Life:
You might notice this when your usual coping strategies suddenly feel inadequate and you try increasingly extreme solutions.
You now have the context. Time to form your own thoughts.
Discussion Questions
- 1
What specific strategy does Levin use to try to quiet his mental torment, and why does he think physical exhaustion will solve his spiritual crisis?
analysis • surface - 2
Why does Levin's solution of working harder fail to address his deeper questions about life's meaning and purpose?
analysis • medium - 3
Where do you see people today using busyness or exhaustion to avoid dealing with uncomfortable questions about their lives?
application • medium - 4
If you had a friend like Levin who was throwing themselves into work to avoid facing difficult questions, what advice would you give them?
application • deep - 5
What does Levin's pattern of avoidance reveal about how humans typically handle existential anxiety and life's big questions?
reflection • deep
Critical Thinking Exercise
Map Your Own Exhaustion Escapes
Think about a time when you threw yourself into activity to avoid dealing with something difficult - maybe working extra hours to avoid relationship problems, or staying constantly busy to avoid thinking about your future. Write down what you were really trying to avoid, what activity you used as your escape, and whether it actually solved anything long-term.
Consider:
- •Notice the difference between productive activity and avoidance activity
- •Consider what your mind was trying to protect you from facing
- •Think about whether the underlying issue eventually demanded attention anyway
Journaling Prompt
Write about a current area of your life where you might be using busyness to avoid facing something important. What would happen if you scheduled 15 minutes to sit with that uncomfortable question instead of running from it?
Coming Up Next...
Chapter 188
As Levin's physical defenses crumble, an unexpected conversation with a simple peasant will challenge everything he thinks he knows about finding meaning in life. Sometimes wisdom comes from the most unlikely sources.
