An excerpt from the original text.(complete · 2048 words)
efore the end of the course of drinking the waters, Prince
Shtcherbatsky, who had gone on from Carlsbad to Baden and Kissingen to
Russian friends—to get a breath of Russian air, as he said—came back to
his wife and daughter.
The views of the prince and of the princess on life abroad were
completely opposed. The princess thought everything delightful, and in
spite of her established position in Russian society, she tried abroad
to be like a European fashionable lady, which she was not—for the
simple reason that she was a typical Russian gentlewoman; and so she
was affected, which did not altogether suit her. The prince, on the
contrary, thought everything foreign detestable, got sick of European
life, kept to his Russian habits, and purposely tried to show himself
abroad less European than he was in reality.
The prince returned thinner, with the skin hanging in loose bags on his
cheeks, but in the most cheerful frame of mind. His good humor was even
greater when he saw Kitty completely recovered. The news of Kitty’s
friendship with Madame Stahl and Varenka, and the reports the princess
gave him of some kind of change she had noticed in Kitty, troubled the
prince and aroused his habitual feeling of jealousy of everything that
drew his daughter away from him, and a dread that his daughter might
have got out of the reach of his influence into regions inaccessible to
him. But these unpleasant matters were all drowned in the sea of
kindliness and good humor which was always within him, and more so than
ever since his course of Carlsbad waters.
The day after his arrival the prince, in his long overcoat, with his
Russian wrinkles and baggy cheeks propped up by a starched collar, set
off with his daughter to the spring in the greatest good humor.
It was a lovely morning: the bright, cheerful houses with their little
gardens, the sight of the red-faced, red-armed, beer-drinking German
waitresses, working away merrily, did the heart good. But the nearer
they got to the springs the oftener they met sick people; and their
appearance seemed more pitiable than ever among the everyday conditions
of prosperous German life. Kitty was no longer struck by this contrast.
The bright sun, the brilliant green of the foliage, the strains of the
music were for her the natural setting of all these familiar faces,
with their changes to greater emaciation or to convalescence, for which
she watched. But to the prince the brightness and gaiety of the June
morning, and the sound of the orchestra playing a gay waltz then in
fashion, and above all, the appearance of the healthy attendants,
seemed something unseemly and monstrous, in conjunction with these
slowly moving, dying figures gathered together from all parts of
Europe. In spite of his feeling of pride and, as it were, of the return
of youth, with his favorite daughter on his arm, he felt awkward, and
almost ashamed of his vigorous step and his sturdy, stout limbs. He
felt almost like a man not dressed in a crowd.
“Present me to your new friends,” he said to his daughter, squeezing
her hand with his elbow. “I like even your horrid Soden for making you
so well again. Only it’s melancholy, very melancholy here. Who’s that?”
Kitty mentioned the names of all the people they met, with some of whom
she was acquainted and some not. At the entrance of the garden they met
the blind lady, Madame Berthe, with her guide, and the prince was
delighted to see the old Frenchwoman’s face light up when she heard
Kitty’s voice. She at once began talking to him with French exaggerated
politeness, applauding him for having such a delightful daughter,
extolling Kitty to the skies before her face, and calling her a
treasure, a pearl, and a consoling angel.
“Well, she’s the second angel, then,” said the prince, smiling. “she
calls Mademoiselle Varenka angel number one.”
“Oh! Mademoiselle Varenka, she’s a real angel, allez,” Madame Berthe
assented.
In the arcade they met Varenka herself. She was walking rapidly towards
them carrying an elegant red bag.
“Here is papa come,” Kitty said to her.
Varenka made—simply and naturally as she did everything—a movement
between a bow and a curtsey, and immediately began talking to the
prince, without shyness, naturally, as she talked to everyone.
“Of course I know you; I know you very well,” the prince said to her
with a smile, in which Kitty detected with joy that her father liked
her friend. “Where are you off to in such haste?”
“Maman’s here,” she said, turning to Kitty. “She has not slept all
night, and the doctor advised her to go out. I’m taking her her work.”
“So that’s angel number one?” said the prince when Varenka had gone on.
Kitty saw that her father had meant to make fun of Varenka, but that he
could not do it because he liked her.
“Come, so we shall see all your friends,” he went on, “even Madame
Stahl, if she deigns to recognize me.”
“Why, did you know her, papa?” Kitty asked apprehensively, catching the
gleam of irony that kindled in the prince’s eyes at the mention of
Madame Stahl.
“I used to know her husband, and her too a little, before she’d joined
the Pietists.”
“What is a Pietist, papa?” asked Kitty, dismayed to find that what she
prized so highly in Madame Stahl had a name.
“I don’t quite know myself. I only know that she thanks God for
everything, for every misfortune, and thanks God too that her husband
died. And that’s rather droll, as they didn’t get on together.”
“Who’s that? What a piteous face!” he asked, noticing a sick man of
medium height sitting on a bench, wearing a brown overcoat and white
trousers that fell in strange folds about his long, fleshless legs.
This man lifted his straw hat, showed his scanty curly hair and high
forehead, painfully reddened by the pressure of the hat.
“That’s Petrov, an artist,” answered Kitty, blushing. “And that’s his
wife,” she added, indicating Anna Pavlovna, who, as though on purpose,
at the very instant they approached walked away after a child that had
run off along a path.
“Poor fellow! and what a nice face he has!” said the prince. “Why don’t
you go up to him? He wanted to speak to you.”
“Well, let us go, then,” said Kitty, turning round resolutely. “How are
you feeling today?” she asked Petrov.
Petrov got up, leaning on his stick, and looked shyly at the prince.
“This is my daughter,” said the prince. “Let me introduce myself.”
The painter bowed and smiled, showing his strangely dazzling white
teeth.
“We expected you yesterday, princess,” he said to Kitty. He staggered
as he said this, and then repeated the motion, trying to make it seem
as if it had been intentional.
“I meant to come, but Varenka said that Anna Pavlovna sent word you
were not going.”
“Not going!” said Petrov, blushing, and immediately beginning to cough,
and his eyes sought his wife. “Anita! Anita!” he said loudly, and the
swollen veins stood out like cords on his thin white neck.
Anna Pavlovna came up.
“So you sent word to the princess that we weren’t going!” he whispered
to her angrily, losing his voice.
“Good morning, princess,” said Anna Pavlovna, with an assumed smile
utterly unlike her former manner. “Very glad to make your
acquaintance,” she said to the prince. “You’ve long been expected,
prince.”
“What did you send word to the princess that we weren’t going for?” the
artist whispered hoarsely once more, still more angrily, obviously
exasperated that his voice failed him so that he could not give his
words the expression he would have liked to.
“Oh, mercy on us! I thought we weren’t going,” his wife answered
crossly.
“What, when....” He coughed and waved his hand. The prince took off his
hat and moved away with his daughter.
“Ah! ah!” he sighed deeply. “Oh, poor things!”
“Yes, papa,” answered Kitty. “And you must know they’ve three children,
no servant, and scarcely any means. He gets something from the
Academy,” she went on briskly, trying to drown the distress that the
queer change in Anna Pavlovna’s manner to her had aroused in her.
“Oh, here’s Madame Stahl,” said Kitty, indicating an invalid carriage,
where, propped on pillows, something in gray and blue was lying under a
sunshade. This was Madame Stahl. Behind her stood the gloomy,
healthy-looking German workman who pushed the carriage. Close by was
standing a flaxen-headed Swedish count, whom Kitty knew by name.
Several invalids were lingering near the low carriage, staring at the
lady as though she were some curiosity.
The prince went up to her, and Kitty detected that disconcerting gleam
of irony in his eyes. He went up to Madame Stahl, and addressed her
with extreme courtesy and affability in that excellent French that so
few speak nowadays.
“I don’t know if you remember me, but I must recall myself to thank you
for your kindness to my daughter,” he said, taking off his hat and not
putting it on again.
“Prince Alexander Shtcherbatsky,” said Madame Stahl, lifting upon him
her heavenly eyes, in which Kitty discerned a look of annoyance.
“Delighted! I have taken a great fancy to your daughter.”
“You are still in weak health?”
“Yes; I’m used to it,” said Madame Stahl, and she introduced the prince
to the Swedish count.
“You are scarcely changed at all,” the prince said to her. “It’s ten or
eleven years since I had the honor of seeing you.”
“Yes; God sends the cross and sends the strength to bear it. Often one
wonders what is the goal of this life?... The other side!” she said
angrily to Varenka, who had rearranged the rug over her feet not to her
satisfaction.
“To do good, probably,” said the prince with a twinkle in his eye.
“That is not for us to judge,” said Madame Stahl, perceiving the shade
of expression on the prince’s face. “So you will send me that book,
dear count? I’m very grateful to you,” she said to the young Swede.
“Ah!” cried the prince, catching sight of the Moscow colonel standing
near, and with a bow to Madame Stahl he walked away with his daughter
and the Moscow colonel, who joined them.
“That’s our aristocracy, prince!” the Moscow colonel said with ironical
intention. He cherished a grudge against Madame Stahl for not making
his acquaintance.
“She’s just the same,” replied the prince.
“Did you know her before her illness, prince—that’s to say before she
took to her bed?”
“Yes. She took to her bed before my eyes,” said the prince.
“They say it’s ten years since she has stood on her feet.”
“She doesn’t stand up because her legs are too short. She’s a very bad
figure.”
“Papa, it’s not possible!” cried Kitty.
“That’s what wicked tongues say, my darling. And your Varenka catches
it too,” he added. “Oh, these invalid ladies!”
“Oh, no, papa!” Kitty objected warmly. “Varenka worships her. And then
she does so much good! Ask anyone! Everyone knows her and Aline Stahl.”
“Perhaps so,” said the prince, squeezing her hand with his elbow; “but
it’s better when one does good so that you may ask everyone and no one
knows.”
Kitty did not answer, not because she had nothing to say, but because
she did not care to reveal her secret thoughts even to her father. But,
strange to say, although she had so made up her mind not to be
influenced by her father’s views, not to let him into her inmost
sanctuary, she felt that the heavenly image of Madame Stahl, which she
had carried for a whole month in her heart, had vanished, never to
return, just as the fantastic figure made up of some clothes thrown
down at random vanishes when one sees that it is only some garment
lying there. All that was left was a woman with short legs, who lay
down because she had a bad figure, and worried patient Varenka for not
arranging her rug to her liking. And by no effort of the imagination
could Kitty bring back the former Madame Stahl.
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Let's Analyse the Pattern
Success in external goals can trigger existential crisis when the momentum of striving stops and deeper questions about meaning emerge.
Why This Matters
Connect literature to life
This chapter teaches how to identify when success triggers existential questioning rather than satisfaction.
Practice This Today
This week, notice when accomplishments feel hollow rather than fulfilling—this signals your brain is ready for deeper questions about purpose beyond external validation.
Now let's explore the literary elements.
Key Quotes & Analysis
"What am I living for? What am I striving for? What is the meaning of my existence?"
Context: During his intense period of self-questioning about life's purpose
These are the core questions that drive existential crisis. Levin has achieved his goals but finds them hollow. The repetition shows how these thoughts cycle obsessively in his mind.
In Today's Words:
Why am I even doing this? What's the point of getting up every day and going through the motions?
"I shall go on in the same way, losing my temper with the coachman, falling into angry discussions, expressing my opinions tactlessly."
Context: Realizing that philosophical insights don't automatically change daily behavior
This shows the gap between understanding life intellectually and actually living differently. Even profound realizations don't instantly transform how we act in small, everyday moments.
In Today's Words:
I'll still get road rage, argue with people online, and say stupid things even though I know better.
"The question is not what I live by, but how I live."
Context: Beginning to shift from seeking abstract meaning to focusing on daily practice
This represents a breakthrough - moving from paralyzing questions about ultimate purpose to practical questions about how to live well day by day. It's about process over product.
In Today's Words:
Maybe it's not about finding some big cosmic purpose, but about how I treat people and show up each day.
Thematic Threads
Personal Growth
In This Chapter
Levin's crisis represents psychological maturation—moving beyond external validation to grapple with deeper questions of purpose
Development
Evolution from earlier chapters where Levin sought meaning through work and marriage
In Your Life:
You might recognize this when a major life achievement leaves you feeling unexpectedly empty rather than fulfilled.
Identity
In This Chapter
Levin questions who he is beyond his roles as landowner and husband, struggling with core sense of self
Development
Deepening from previous identity conflicts around class and social position
In Your Life:
You might face this when your job title or family role no longer feels like enough to define who you are.
Class
In This Chapter
Even with material success and social position, Levin discovers that privilege doesn't protect against existential questioning
Development
Complicates earlier themes about class advantages by showing their limitations
In Your Life:
You might see this when achieving a better economic position doesn't bring the satisfaction you expected.
Human Relationships
In This Chapter
Levin's love for his family conflicts with his rational despair, showing how connection anchors us even in crisis
Development
Builds on marriage themes to show how relationships provide meaning beyond logic
In Your Life:
You might notice how caring for others gives you purpose even when everything else feels pointless.
You now have the context. Time to form your own thoughts.
Discussion Questions
- 1
What triggers Levin's crisis of meaning despite having achieved everything he wanted?
analysis • surface - 2
Why does success sometimes lead to emptiness rather than satisfaction?
analysis • medium - 3
Where do you see this 'achievement emptiness' pattern in modern life - people who got what they wanted but still feel lost?
application • medium - 4
How would you help someone navigate this crisis without dismissing their feelings or offering empty platitudes?
application • deep - 5
What does Levin's struggle reveal about the difference between external success and internal fulfillment?
reflection • deep
Critical Thinking Exercise
Map Your Achievement Ladder
Draw a ladder with your major life goals on each rung, from past achievements to future aspirations. Next to each rung, write what you thought that achievement would give you (happiness, security, respect, etc.). Then mark which achievements actually delivered what you expected and which left you feeling empty or asking 'what's next?'
Consider:
- •Notice if your goals are mostly external (status, money, recognition) or include internal ones (growth, connection, purpose)
- •Look for patterns in which achievements satisfied you and which didn't
- •Consider whether you're climbing toward something meaningful or just climbing because that's what you're supposed to do
Journaling Prompt
Write about a time when you achieved something important but felt surprisingly empty afterward. What were you really seeking that the achievement couldn't provide?
Coming Up Next...
Chapter 69
Levin's philosophical crisis deepens as he grapples with thoughts that frighten even him. A chance encounter with a peasant might offer an unexpected perspective on his spiritual struggle.
