Review: Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

Apparently, when William Faulkner was asked to list the three greatest novels of all time, he replied, “Anna Karenina, Anna Karenina, Anna Karenina.” I’m not sure I would go that far, but there is a reason why people call it a masterpiece.

Tolstoy’s ability to delve into his characters is absolutely exquisite. Every single character in Anna Karenina occupied the grey area of imperfection. Such flawed characters, and yet I wanted to read so much more of them—particularly the secondary characters, i.e. Stiva and Alexey Karenin. Novels that feature too many characters usually lack in-depth characterization, but in Karenina, I wanted some of the secondary characters to either have more screen-time in the existing book, or have more exploration in an extended novel, which is a testament to how well Tolstoy wrote his characters. 

This goes for Anna, although I had a hard time sympathizing with her as the novel progressed. Tolstoy did write Anna incredibly well. She was relatively fascinating, but she honestly paled in comparison with the other characters. Many laud her character as one of the most complex in literature, but I had difficulty finding her original grace or her prolonged spiral especially unique. She also irked me so much in the middle of the novel, I found it hard to sympathize with her at the end. Her neglectful relationships with both of her children, and that one interaction Anna had with Levin left her irredeemable to me (let the record show that I was also annoyed with Levin during that latter scene as well, but Anna’s deliberate attempt to seduce him was disgusting). Her graceful, effortless wit and aura seemed to be her most attractive quality; however, her magnetism became repulsiveness, and according to Vronsky, her magnetism itself became repulsive despite his love for her. 

As for Vronsky, his character aged well over the course of the novel. I did not entirely understand him during the first half—perhaps Tolstoy’s one characterization blunder—but I warmed to him over time. His love for Anna became even clearer under her paranoia and scrutiny. He didn’t deserve her last act of “revenge.”

Levin—the true hero of the novel, and apparently Tolstoy’s representation of himself—is going down on my list of favorite literary characters. I adore him despite his insecurity, his jealousy, his occasional temper, and his utter inability to articulate his particular and stubborn ideas. His philosophical digressions were more often interesting rather than boring, although I grant that the political bits near the end had me drifting a little. I understood him, and I was delighted by his growth. Out of the love stories in the novel, I was most invested in Levin’s and Kitty’s. He is the main reason why I’m not inclined to watch movie adaptations of Anna Karenina; I feel like any other representation will ruin the image of him I have in my head. 

Now I want to talk about Stiva and Alexey Karenin. I know I’ve mostly talked about the male characters in the novel, but that is not to discredit the females of the novel. I think Tolstoy did a great job writing the females, but I also think they were a product of the time, which might be why they are not the strongest characters in my opinion. I sympathize with poor Dolly, but I found Kitty regretfully forgettable. Stiva and Karenin were the opposite; I especially found myself puzzling over Karenin’s character often. Stiva is an incessant adulterer, but I couldn’t help but feel delighted when he shows up in the novel because of his genuine friendliness and easygoing nature. Karenin, on the other hand, is a stickler for proper conduct and moral behavior. I personally found his sarcasm endearing, and I understood why he adopted a cold exterior, but I also understand that Anna Karenina needed a more sensitive and tender love. I disliked his arc in the second half of the novel, which might be the reason I wanted Tolstoy to expand on his character, if only to understand why Tolstoy made the decisions that he did.

Reading Anna Karenina is truly an immersive experience. You become invested in the characters; they make you angry and disappointed, but they also make your heart melt. And you finish the monster of a book somehow wanting more.