An excerpt from the original text.(complete · 1516 words)
hey heard the sound of steps and a man’s voice, then a woman’s voice
and laughter, and immediately thereafter there walked in the expected
guests: Sappho Shtoltz, and a young man beaming with excess of health,
the so-called Vaska. It was evident that ample supplies of beefsteak,
truffles, and Burgundy never failed to reach him at the fitting hour.
Vaska bowed to the two ladies, and glanced at them, but only for one
second. He walked after Sappho into the drawing-room, and followed her
about as though he were chained to her, keeping his sparkling eyes
fixed on her as though he wanted to eat her. Sappho Shtoltz was a
blonde beauty with black eyes. She walked with smart little steps in
high-heeled shoes, and shook hands with the ladies vigorously like a
man.
Anna had never met this new star of fashion, and was struck by her
beauty, the exaggerated extreme to which her dress was carried, and the
boldness of her manners. On her head there was such a superstructure of
soft, golden hair—her own and false mixed—that her head was equal in
size to the elegantly rounded bust, of which so much was exposed in
front. The impulsive abruptness of her movements was such that at every
step the lines of her knees and the upper part of her legs were
distinctly marked under her dress, and the question involuntarily rose
to the mind where in the undulating, piled-up mountain of material at
the back the real body of the woman, so small and slender, so naked in
front, and so hidden behind and below, really came to an end.
Betsy made haste to introduce her to Anna.
“Only fancy, we all but ran over two soldiers,” she began telling them
at once, using her eyes, smiling and twitching away her tail, which she
flung back at one stroke all on one side. “I drove here with Vaska....
Ah, to be sure, you don’t know each other.” And mentioning his surname
she introduced the young man, and reddening a little, broke into a
ringing laugh at her mistake—that is, at her having called him Vaska to
a stranger. Vaska bowed once more to Anna, but he said nothing to her.
He addressed Sappho: “You’ve lost your bet. We got here first. Pay up,”
said he, smiling.
Sappho laughed still more festively.
“Not just now,” said she.
“Oh, all right, I’ll have it later.”
“Very well, very well. Oh, yes.” She turned suddenly to Princess Betsy:
“I am a nice person ... I positively forgot it ... I’ve brought you a
visitor. And here he comes.” The unexpected young visitor, whom Sappho
had invited, and whom she had forgotten, was, however, a personage of
such consequence that, in spite of his youth, both the ladies rose on
his entrance.
He was a new admirer of Sappho’s. He now dogged her footsteps, like
Vaska.
Soon after Prince Kaluzhsky arrived, and Liza Merkalova with Stremov.
Liza Merkalova was a thin brunette, with an Oriental, languid type of
face, and—as everyone used to say—exquisite enigmatic eyes. The tone of
her dark dress (Anna immediately observed and appreciated the fact) was
in perfect harmony with her style of beauty. Liza was as soft and
enervated as Sappho was smart and abrupt.
But to Anna’s taste Liza was far more attractive. Betsy had said to
Anna that she had adopted the pose of an innocent child, but when Anna
saw her, she felt that this was not the truth. She really was both
innocent and corrupt, but a sweet and passive woman. It is true that
her tone was the same as Sappho’s; that like Sappho, she had two men,
one young and one old, tacked onto her, and devouring her with their
eyes. But there was something in her higher than what surrounded her.
There was in her the glow of the real diamond among glass imitations.
This glow shone out in her exquisite, truly enigmatic eyes. The weary,
and at the same time passionate, glance of those eyes, encircled by
dark rings, impressed one by its perfect sincerity. Everyone looking
into those eyes fancied he knew her wholly, and knowing her, could not
but love her. At the sight of Anna, her whole face lighted up at once
with a smile of delight.
“Ah, how glad I am to see you!” she said, going up to her. “Yesterday
at the races all I wanted was to get to you, but you’d gone away. I did
so want to see you, yesterday especially. Wasn’t it awful?” she said,
looking at Anna with eyes that seemed to lay bare all her soul.
“Yes; I had no idea it would be so thrilling,” said Anna, blushing.
The company got up at this moment to go into the garden.
“I’m not going,” said Liza, smiling and settling herself close to Anna.
“You won’t go either, will you? Who wants to play croquet?”
“Oh, I like it,” said Anna.
“There, how do you manage never to be bored by things? It’s delightful
to look at you. You’re alive, but I’m bored.”
“How can you be bored? Why, you live in the liveliest set in
Petersburg,” said Anna.
“Possibly the people who are not of our set are even more bored; but
we—I certainly—are not happy, but awfully, awfully bored.”
Sappho smoking a cigarette went off into the garden with the two young
men. Betsy and Stremov remained at the tea-table.
“What, bored!” said Betsy. “Sappho says they did enjoy themselves
tremendously at your house last night.”
“Ah, how dreary it all was!” said Liza Merkalova. “We all drove back to
my place after the races. And always the same people, always the same.
Always the same thing. We lounged about on sofas all the evening. What
is there to enjoy in that? No; do tell me how you manage never to be
bored?” she said, addressing Anna again. “One has but to look at you
and one sees, here’s a woman who may be happy or unhappy, but isn’t
bored. Tell me how you do it?”
“I do nothing,” answered Anna, blushing at these searching questions.
“That’s the best way,” Stremov put in. Stremov was a man of fifty,
partly gray, but still vigorous-looking, very ugly, but with a
characteristic and intelligent face. Liza Merkalova was his wife’s
niece, and he spent all his leisure hours with her. On meeting Anna
Karenina, as he was Alexey Alexandrovitch’s enemy in the government, he
tried, like a shrewd man and a man of the world, to be particularly
cordial with her, the wife of his enemy.
“‘Nothing,’” he put in with a subtle smile, “that’s the very best way.
I told you long ago,” he said, turning to Liza Merkalova, “that if you
don’t want to be bored, you mustn’t think you’re going to be bored.
It’s just as you mustn’t be afraid of not being able to fall asleep, if
you’re afraid of sleeplessness. That’s just what Anna Arkadyevna has
just said.”
“I should be very glad if I had said it, for it’s not only clever but
true,” said Anna, smiling.
“No, do tell me why it is one can’t go to sleep, and one can’t help
being bored?”
“To sleep well one ought to work, and to enjoy oneself one ought to
work too.”
“What am I to work for when my work is no use to anybody? And I can’t
and won’t knowingly make a pretense about it.”
“You’re incorrigible,” said Stremov, not looking at her, and he spoke
again to Anna. As he rarely met Anna, he could say nothing but
commonplaces to her, but he said those commonplaces as to when she was
returning to Petersburg, and how fond Countess Lidia Ivanovna was of
her, with an expression which suggested that he longed with his whole
soul to please her and show his regard for her and even more than that.
Tushkevitch came in, announcing that the party were awaiting the other
players to begin croquet.
“No, don’t go away, please don’t,” pleaded Liza Merkalova, hearing that
Anna was going. Stremov joined in her entreaties.
“It’s too violent a transition,” he said, “to go from such company to
old Madame Vrede. And besides, you will only give her a chance for
talking scandal, while here you arouse none but such different feelings
of the highest and most opposite kind,” he said to her.
Anna pondered for an instant in uncertainty. This shrewd man’s
flattering words, the naïve, childlike affection shown her by Liza
Merkalova, and all the social atmosphere she was used to,—it was all so
easy, and what was in store for her was so difficult, that she was for
a minute in uncertainty whether to remain, whether to put off a little
longer the painful moment of explanation. But remembering what was in
store for her alone at home, if she did not come to some decision,
remembering that gesture—terrible even in memory—when she had clutched
her hair in both hands—she said good-bye and went away.
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Let's Analyse the Pattern
Humans require work that connects them to tangible outcomes and serves something larger than themselves to find genuine fulfillment.
Why This Matters
Connect literature to life
This chapter teaches how to recognize when professional success masks spiritual emptiness and how authentic effort creates genuine satisfaction.
Practice This Today
This week, notice which tasks leave you energized despite being tired, and which leave you drained despite being easy—that's your internal compass pointing toward meaningful work.
Now let's explore the literary elements.
Key Quotes & Analysis
"The longer Levin mowed, the oftener he felt the moments of unconsciousness in which it seemed not his hands that swung the scythe, but the scythe mowing of itself."
Context: As Levin loses himself in the rhythm of manual labor
This describes the psychological state of 'flow' where self-consciousness disappears during meaningful work. Levin finds peace by becoming one with his task rather than overthinking his life.
In Today's Words:
When you're so focused on your work that you lose track of time and everything just flows naturally.
"He felt a peculiar sense of progress in the work and satisfaction in its quality."
Context: Describing Levin's feelings while working in the fields
Physical labor gives Levin measurable accomplishment and pride that his intellectual pursuits lack. This tangible progress contrasts with the circular nature of his philosophical worries.
In Today's Words:
There's something satisfying about work where you can actually see what you've accomplished.
"The old man worked as though he were playing, so smoothly and easily did his strong arms swing the scythe."
Context: Levin observing an experienced peasant worker
True mastery makes difficult work look effortless. The peasant's skill represents the kind of authentic competence Levin admires and wants to develop in his own life.
In Today's Words:
Watching someone who's really good at their job makes it look easy, even when it's not.
Thematic Threads
Authenticity
In This Chapter
Levin seeks genuine connection through physical labor rather than artificial social performance
Development
Deepened from his earlier discomfort with Moscow society
In Your Life:
You might recognize this when small talk feels exhausting but helping someone move feels energizing
Class
In This Chapter
Levin works alongside peasants, breaking down social barriers through shared labor
Development
Evolved from observing class differences to actively bridging them
In Your Life:
You might see this when you connect better with coworkers during hands-on projects than in meetings
Purpose
In This Chapter
Physical exhaustion brings spiritual satisfaction that intellectual pursuits cannot provide
Development
Introduced here as counterpoint to his philosophical searching
In Your Life:
You might feel this when fixing something broken gives you more satisfaction than scrolling social media
Connection
In This Chapter
Working the land creates deeper bonds than social conversation ever could
Development
Builds on his struggle to form meaningful relationships
In Your Life:
You might notice this when working on a project with others creates instant camaraderie
You now have the context. Time to form your own thoughts.
Discussion Questions
- 1
Why does Levin choose to work in the fields alongside his peasants instead of just managing from a distance?
analysis • surface - 2
What's the difference between the satisfaction Levin finds in physical labor versus the emptiness he feels in Moscow society?
analysis • medium - 3
Where do you see people today finding meaning through hands-on work, even when they could afford to avoid it?
application • medium - 4
How would you evaluate whether your own work creates genuine value versus just keeping you busy?
application • deep - 5
What does Levin's search for authentic work reveal about why humans need to feel useful rather than just comfortable?
reflection • deep
Critical Thinking Exercise
Audit Your Work for Meaning
List the main activities that fill your typical week - both paid work and personal tasks. For each activity, ask: Does this create something tangible? Does it help someone else? Can I see the direct impact? Mark each activity as 'meaningful work,' 'necessary maintenance,' or 'busy work.' Look for patterns in what energizes you versus what drains you.
Consider:
- •Even small tasks can be meaningful if they serve others or create lasting value
- •Some 'busy work' might be necessary but shouldn't dominate your time
- •The goal isn't to judge your current situation but to understand what feeds your sense of purpose
Journaling Prompt
Write about a time when you felt most useful and satisfied with your work. What made that experience different from tasks that feel empty or pointless? How could you create more opportunities for that kind of meaningful contribution?
Coming Up Next...
Chapter 88
Levin's philosophical reflections during his physical labor lead him toward a spiritual breakthrough that will reshape his understanding of faith and purpose. Meanwhile, the contrast between his grounded existence and Anna's increasingly desperate situation becomes impossible to ignore.
