An excerpt from the original text.(complete · 1848 words)
ierre, after all, had not managed to choose a career for himself in
Petersburg, and had been expelled from there for riotous conduct and
sent to Moscow. The story told about him at Count Rostóv’s was true.
Pierre had taken part in tying a policeman to a bear. He had now been
for some days in Moscow and was staying as usual at his father’s
house. Though he expected that the story of his escapade would be
already known in Moscow and that the ladies about his father—who were
never favorably disposed toward him—would have used it to turn the
count against him, he nevertheless on the day of his arrival went to
his father’s part of the house. Entering the drawing room, where the
princesses spent most of their time, he greeted the ladies, two of whom
were sitting at embroidery frames while a third read aloud. It was the
eldest who was reading—the one who had met Anna Mikháylovna. The
two younger ones were embroidering: both were rosy and pretty and they
differed only in that one had a little mole on her lip which made her
much prettier. Pierre was received as if he were a corpse or a leper.
The eldest princess paused in her reading and silently stared at him
with frightened eyes; the second assumed precisely the same expression;
while the youngest, the one with the mole, who was of a cheerful and
lively disposition, bent over her frame to hide a smile probably evoked
by the amusing scene she foresaw. She drew her wool down through the
canvas and, scarcely able to refrain from laughing, stooped as if trying
to make out the pattern.
“How do you do, cousin?” said Pierre. “You don’t recognize
me?”
“I recognize you only too well, too well.”
“How is the count? Can I see him?” asked Pierre, awkwardly as usual,
but unabashed.
“The count is suffering physically and mentally, and apparently you
have done your best to increase his mental sufferings.”
“Can I see the count?” Pierre again asked.
“Hm.... If you wish to kill him, to kill him outright, you can see
him... Olga, go and see whether Uncle’s beef tea is ready—it is
almost time,” she added, giving Pierre to understand that they were
busy, and busy making his father comfortable, while evidently he,
Pierre, was only busy causing him annoyance.
Olga went out. Pierre stood looking at the sisters; then he bowed and
said: “Then I will go to my rooms. You will let me know when I can see
him.”
And he left the room, followed by the low but ringing laughter of the
sister with the mole.
Next day Prince Vasíli had arrived and settled in the count’s house.
He sent for Pierre and said to him: “My dear fellow, if you are going
to behave here as you did in Petersburg, you will end very badly; that
is all I have to say to you. The count is very, very ill, and you must
not see him at all.”
Since then Pierre had not been disturbed and had spent the whole time in
his rooms upstairs.
When Borís appeared at his door Pierre was pacing up and down his room,
stopping occasionally at a corner to make menacing gestures at the wall,
as if running a sword through an invisible foe, and glaring savagely
over his spectacles, and then again resuming his walk, muttering
indistinct words, shrugging his shoulders and gesticulating.
“England is done for,” said he, scowling and pointing his finger
at someone unseen. “Mr. Pitt, as a traitor to the nation and to the
rights of man, is sentenced to...” But before Pierre—who at that
moment imagined himself to be Napoleon in person and to have just
effected the dangerous crossing of the Straits of Dover and captured
London—could pronounce Pitt’s sentence, he saw a well-built and
handsome young officer entering his room. Pierre paused. He had left
Moscow when Borís was a boy of fourteen, and had quite forgotten him,
but in his usual impulsive and hearty way he took Borís by the hand
with a friendly smile.
“Do you remember me?” asked Borís quietly with a pleasant smile.
“I have come with my mother to see the count, but it seems he is not
well.”
“Yes, it seems he is ill. People are always disturbing him,”
answered Pierre, trying to remember who this young man was.
Borís felt that Pierre did not recognize him but did not consider
it necessary to introduce himself, and without experiencing the least
embarrassment looked Pierre straight in the face.
“Count Rostóv asks you to come to dinner today,” said he, after a
considerable pause which made Pierre feel uncomfortable.
“Ah, Count Rostóv!” exclaimed Pierre joyfully. “Then you are his
son, Ilyá? Only fancy, I didn’t know you at first. Do you remember
how we went to the Sparrow Hills with Madame Jacquot?... It’s such an
age...”
“You are mistaken,” said Borís deliberately, with a bold and
slightly sarcastic smile. “I am Borís, son of Princess Anna
Mikháylovna Drubetskáya. Rostóv, the father, is Ilyá, and his son is
Nicholas. I never knew any Madame Jacquot.”
Pierre shook his head and arms as if attacked by mosquitoes or bees.
“Oh dear, what am I thinking about? I’ve mixed everything up. One
has so many relatives in Moscow! So you are Borís? Of course. Well, now
we know where we are. And what do you think of the Boulogne expedition?
The English will come off badly, you know, if Napoleon gets across the
Channel. I think the expedition is quite feasible. If only Villeneuve
doesn’t make a mess of things!”
Borís knew nothing about the Boulogne expedition; he did not read the
papers and it was the first time he had heard Villeneuve’s name.
“We here in Moscow are more occupied with dinner parties and scandal
than with politics,” said he in his quiet ironical tone. “I know
nothing about it and have not thought about it. Moscow is chiefly busy
with gossip,” he continued. “Just now they are talking about you and
your father.”
Pierre smiled in his good-natured way as if afraid for his companion’s
sake that the latter might say something he would afterwards regret.
But Borís spoke distinctly, clearly, and dryly, looking straight into
Pierre’s eyes.
“Moscow has nothing else to do but gossip,” Borís went on.
“Everybody is wondering to whom the count will leave his fortune,
though he may perhaps outlive us all, as I sincerely hope he will...”
“Yes, it is all very horrid,” interrupted Pierre, “very horrid.”
Pierre was still afraid that this officer might inadvertently say
something disconcerting to himself.
“And it must seem to you,” said Borís flushing slightly, but not
changing his tone or attitude, “it must seem to you that everyone is
trying to get something out of the rich man?”
“So it does,” thought Pierre.
“But I just wish to say, to avoid misunderstandings, that you are
quite mistaken if you reckon me or my mother among such people. We are
very poor, but for my own part at any rate, for the very reason that
your father is rich, I don’t regard myself as a relation of his, and
neither I nor my mother would ever ask or take anything from him.”
For a long time Pierre could not understand, but when he did, he jumped
up from the sofa, seized Borís under the elbow in his quick, clumsy
way, and, blushing far more than Borís, began to speak with a feeling
of mingled shame and vexation.
“Well, this is strange! Do you suppose I... who could think?... I know
very well...”
But Borís again interrupted him.
“I am glad I have spoken out fully. Perhaps you did not like it? You
must excuse me,” said he, putting Pierre at ease instead of being put
at ease by him, “but I hope I have not offended you. I always make it
a rule to speak out... Well, what answer am I to take? Will you come to
dinner at the Rostóvs’?”
And Borís, having apparently relieved himself of an onerous duty and
extricated himself from an awkward situation and placed another in it,
became quite pleasant again.
“No, but I say,” said Pierre, calming down, “you are a wonderful
fellow! What you have just said is good, very good. Of course you
don’t know me. We have not met for such a long time... not since we
were children. You might think that I... I understand, quite understand.
I could not have done it myself, I should not have had the courage, but
it’s splendid. I am very glad to have made your acquaintance. It’s
queer,” he added after a pause, “that you should have suspected
me!” He began to laugh. “Well, what of it! I hope we’ll get better
acquainted,” and he pressed Borís’ hand. “Do you know, I have not
once been in to see the count. He has not sent for me.... I am sorry for
him as a man, but what can one do?”
“And so you think Napoleon will manage to get an army across?” asked
Borís with a smile.
Pierre saw that Borís wished to change the subject, and being of the
same mind he began explaining the advantages and disadvantages of the
Boulogne expedition.
A footman came in to summon Borís—the princess was going. Pierre, in
order to make Borís’ better acquaintance, promised to come to dinner,
and warmly pressing his hand looked affectionately over his spectacles
into Borís’ eyes. After he had gone Pierre continued pacing up and
down the room for a long time, no longer piercing an imaginary foe with
his imaginary sword, but smiling at the remembrance of that pleasant,
intelligent, and resolute young man.
As often happens in early youth, especially to one who leads a lonely
life, he felt an unaccountable tenderness for this young man and made up
his mind that they would be friends.
Prince Vasíli saw the princess off. She held a handkerchief to her eyes
and her face was tearful.
“It is dreadful, dreadful!” she was saying, “but cost me what it
may I shall do my duty. I will come and spend the night. He must not be
left like this. Every moment is precious. I can’t think why his nieces
put it off. Perhaps God will help me to find a way to prepare him!...
Adieu, Prince! May God support you...”
“Adieu, ma bonne,” answered Prince Vasíli turning away from her.
“Oh, he is in a dreadful state,” said the mother to her son when
they were in the carriage. “He hardly recognizes anybody.”
“I don’t understand, Mamma—what is his attitude to Pierre?”
asked the son.
“The will will show that, my dear; our fate also depends on it.”
“But why do you expect that he will leave us anything?”
“Ah, my dear! He is so rich, and we are so poor!”
“Well, that is hardly a sufficient reason, Mamma...”
“Oh, Heaven! How ill he is!” exclaimed the mother.
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Let's Analyse the Pattern
Speaking uncomfortable truth directly often earns more respect than participating in polite deception or avoidance.
Why This Matters
Connect literature to life
This chapter teaches how to recognize when everyone is performing politeness while avoiding obvious truths.
Practice This Today
This week, notice when conversations feel exhausting because everyone's dancing around something obvious—then consider whether naming it directly might actually help.
Now let's explore the literary elements.
Key Quotes & Analysis
"Pierre was received as if he were a corpse or a leper."
Context: When Pierre enters the drawing room where his father's daughters are sitting
This vivid comparison shows how completely the family has rejected Pierre. He's not just unwelcome - he's treated as something contaminated or dead. It reveals how social exile works through body language and atmosphere rather than words.
In Today's Words:
Everyone acted like he had the plague or was already dead to them.
"We are poor, but for my own sake I do not wish it and do not ask for anything."
Context: When Boris directly addresses the awkward topic of Pierre's potential inheritance
Boris cuts through all the polite pretense and speaks the uncomfortable truth directly. This honesty, rather than offending Pierre, actually earns his respect and transforms their relationship.
In Today's Words:
Look, we're broke, but I'm not here looking for a handout.
"He imagined himself as Napoleon and pictured the conquest of England."
Context: Pierre alone in his rooms, escaping reality through grandiose fantasies
Shows how Pierre deals with his shame and powerlessness by retreating into elaborate daydreams where he's the most powerful man in the world. It's escapism that prevents him from addressing his real problems.
In Today's Words:
He daydreamed about being the most powerful person alive and taking over countries.
Thematic Threads
Truth vs. Pretense
In This Chapter
Boris chooses direct honesty about money and inheritance while others maintain polite fictions
Development
Building on earlier themes of social performance, now showing the power of breaking those patterns
In Your Life:
You might face this when everyone's pretending a workplace problem doesn't exist but you're tempted to name it directly.
Class Anxiety
In This Chapter
Pierre's inheritance prospects create awkward dynamics with visitors who want money but can't ask directly
Development
Continuing exploration of how money and class position affect relationships
In Your Life:
You might experience this when financial differences make friendships or family relationships complicated.
Escapism
In This Chapter
Pierre retreats into Napoleon fantasies rather than dealing with his real situation and relationships
Development
Introduced here as Pierre's coping mechanism for social pressure and isolation
In Your Life:
You might recognize this in your own tendency to lose yourself in social media, TV, or daydreams when real life feels overwhelming.
Respect Through Integrity
In This Chapter
Boris earns Pierre's admiration by refusing to compromise his principles even when poor
Development
New theme showing how moral consistency can command respect across class lines
In Your Life:
You might find that standing by your values, even when it's financially costly, actually increases how others view you.
Recognition and Growth
In This Chapter
Pierre doesn't initially recognize the grown Boris, symbolizing how people can transform beyond our expectations
Development
Introduced here, exploring how we must update our perceptions as people change
In Your Life:
You might need to recognize when someone in your life has grown beyond the role you've always assigned them.
You now have the context. Time to form your own thoughts.
Discussion Questions
- 1
What different strategies do the characters use to deal with the awkward situation around Pierre's potential inheritance?
analysis • surface - 2
Why does Boris's direct approach initially make Pierre uncomfortable, but ultimately earn his respect?
analysis • medium - 3
Where have you seen someone cut through polite pretense by naming what everyone knows but won't say? How did people react?
application • medium - 4
When is it worth risking awkwardness to speak truth directly, and when is it better to maintain polite fiction?
application • deep - 5
What does this chapter reveal about why we often respect people who make us uncomfortable with their honesty more than those who tell us what we want to hear?
reflection • deep
Critical Thinking Exercise
Practice the Uncomfortable Truth
Think of a situation in your life where everyone is dancing around an obvious truth - at work, in your family, or with friends. Write down what that truth is, then practice how you would state it directly but kindly. Consider the difference between being honest and being cruel.
Consider:
- •Focus on stating facts, not making judgments about people's character
- •Think about timing - when would this conversation be most productive
- •Consider what outcome you actually want from speaking this truth
Journaling Prompt
Write about a time when someone's direct honesty with you felt uncomfortable but ultimately helped you. What made their approach effective rather than just harsh?
Coming Up Next...
Chapter 17: The Weight of Money and Friendship
As the count's condition worsens, the various parties position themselves around his deathbed. The question of inheritance looms larger, and Princess Anna Mikhaylovna prepares to make her most crucial move in what has become a high-stakes game of family politics.
