tTolstoy’s first published work, Childhood, is a touching story that reveals as much about the author’s childhood experience as it does about maturation in general. Although the story is not a biography, Tolstoy draws on his own past with the belief that “what he learned from self-observation could be applied to humankind in general.” (Orwin, 54) Indeed, the narrator’s account is so similar to the author’s own life that “his sister, not knowing the author’s identity when she first read it, was convinced that it could only be by one of her brothers.” (Wachtel, 177) The story derives its power from both the personal, sincere tone it possesses by virtue of its being a personal reminiscence, and from its universal appeal as a shared experience. Childhood chronicles the difficult and peculiar transition from innocence to maturity by showing how its narrator and protagonist is swept from a world of selfless love and wonder into a world of extreme self-consciousness and megalomania. By examining the narrator’s relationships, values, and sensations, we can see how he progresses from the selfless childhood in the first half of the book to self-obsessed maturation in the second. tIn the first half of the novel, Nikolenka is still governed by an innocent, loving, and above all selfless inclination. He experiences strange bouts of self-absorption, but they are fleeting instances and, though they become increasingly frequent, he is not swept up in them completely until the second half of the story. Childhood begins with just such an instance. Awoken by the servant Karl Ivanych (a man completely dedicated to Nikolenka and his family), Nikolenka is unable to suppress a fit of self-righteous indignation: he believes momentarily that this “disgusting man” dedicates his life to finding ways “to be nasty to [him].” (Tolstoy, 13) But we can see that this irrational and paranoid disposition is unusual in Nikolenka at this point, for he quickly remembers “how nice [Karl Ivanych] is” and he is “annoyed with [him]self” and “all upset” for having wrongfully scorned his friend. (Tolstoy, 14) Indeed, he is typically full of compassion for this eccentric and kind Karl Ivanych. He feels badly that Karl Ivanych is “all alone” while he himself has siblings to play with. (Tolstoy, 14) This gentle sympathy leads Nikolenka to regularly express his love for the man by holding his hand and calling him “’Lieber Karl Ivanych.” (Tolstoy, 16) He retains this selfless love a little later, when he discovers that he and his siblings are to move to Moscow. Although he is pleased at the idea that they are now “really big boys,” he is very disturbed at the realization that, without any lessons to teach, Karl Ivanych will be sent away. (Tolstoy, 22) His love for Karl Ivanych eclipses his concerns for himself as he decides “it would be better to go on having lessons for ever and not go away and leave mamma and hurt poor Karl Ivanych.” (Tolstoy 23) When his father decides that Karl Ivanych be sent away, Nikolenka is distressed that his “father and Karl Ivanych, whom [he] loved almost equally, had not seen eye to eye.” He clearly puts Karl Ivanych’s well-being before his own in the first half of Childhood. In the second, however, he slanders his dear friend only to save himself some embarrassment in front of a girl he likes, even though he realizes it is at odds with “the affection and esteem” he feels for him. (Tolstoy, 78)tThe conflict between Nikolenka’s childhood tendency towards selflessness and his emerging propensity towards self-importance is intensified towards the end of the first half of Childhood, when the family goes on a hunt. For the first time in the book, he feels “envious,” because he feels his brother looks better than him on horseback as they are preparing to set out. (Tolstoy, 31) This is the first instance where Nikolenka expresses a concern for his own appearance. In the second half, this concern becomes “moments of despair” when he worries “that there could be no earthly happiness” for such an ugly person. (Tolstoy, 62) But his momentary concern is interrupted when he is overtaken with childlike wonder: he sees “a butterfly with yellow wings fluttering most alluringly before [him]” and takes to observing it with “delight.” (Tolstoy, 34-35) This shows that the narrator is not yet completely governed by egotism as he will be in the second half of the novel, but is still capable of being utterly absorbed in something of no practical use to himself. Sadly, though, this momentary distraction, despite the joy it brings him, leads him to “mortification.” (Tolstoy, 35) The hare he is hunting escapes, and a servant witnesses his error. No longer carefree, he is profoundly ashamed at the servant’s “contemptuous look” and “would rather he had hung [him] to his saddle like a hare.” (Tolstoy, 35) The melodrama of Nikolenka’s “deep despair” at this trivial event foreshadows his upcoming moodiness and turn from his innocent behaviour. tNikolenka’s amorous relationships also depict the change which takes place within him. In the first half of the book, he shows his affection to his longtime friend Katya. When the two are examining a caterpillar together, he kisses her shoulder “as hard as he [can].” (Tolstoy, 37) He repeats this action later: this time, they are examining a visitor, when “quite without premeditation [he takes] hold of her bare elbow and [presses his] lips on her arm.” (Tolstoy, 45) He is spontaneous, sincere, and shameless. His relationship in the second half of the novel with Sonya is quite the opposite. When they are introduced, he blushes and is overcome with shyness to the extent that he is compelled “to beat a retreat.” (Tolstoy, 73) He strives so desperately to please her that he behaves immorally, lying about his beloved Karl Ivanych and submitting him to ridicule. His conscience troubles him, but he ignores it for the sake of his own advancement. With Sonya, there is none of the unprepossessing comfort he felt with Katya. Instead, he is acutely “conscious of [his own] power.” (Tolstoy, 78)tThe change in the narrator’s behaviour from the first of half the book to the second is also evident in his interaction with his father. There is one instance, for example, when his father squeezes his shoulder to direct him “to move away from the table.” Although Nikolenka “did not understand whether this was a caress or a rebuke” he nevertheless kisses his father’s hand. (Tolstoy, 21) Here, it does not matter to him whether his father is angry with him or whether he has behaved improperly--he follows his natural instinct to humbly express his affection. This contrasts sharply with the Nikolenka of the second half of Childhood, who is constantly worried about being insulted and about making the wrong impression. In a similar instance in the second half, his father “gently [pushes]” Nikolenka aside to relieve him of his dancing partner after he had embarrassed himself by wrongly executing the steps, and Nikolenka is overcome with bitterness. He complains to himself about how his father had “gone red and seized [him] by the arm” and insists that his mother would not have behaved that way. (Tolstoy, 80) He does not consider that his father was most likely attempting to assist his son, and he abandons himself now to resentment because of his embarrassment where before he would have yielded to the love he felt.tNikolenka’s transition is also apparent with regards to the people he respects. In the first half, he is most moved by the holy fool Grisha who visits his house. The sincerity of Grisha’s prayers as well as the evident struggle of his life inspire in Nikolenka “childish wonder, pity and awe.” (Tolstoy, 44) But in the second half of the novel, it is quite a different character who creates an equally strong impression on him. He becomes infatuated with a cruel and conceited boy called Seryozha. Nikolenka is so obsessed with him that “to see him was sufficient to make [him] happy” and “all [his] dreams, waking or sleeping, were of him.” (Tolstoy, 66-67) His love for Seryozha leads him to do things he knows to be wrong, like bullying the sweet boy Ilinka Grap. His former selfless kindness surfaces and he “[glances] with compassion at the poor lad” but still out of his devotion to Seryozha he does nothing to help him. (Tolstoy, 71) In the first half of Childhood, Nikolenka’s selfless goodness leads him to admire the gentle Grisha, while in the second he admires the vile Seryozha and succumbs to his “oppressive and intolerable” influence despite his better judgement. (Tolstoy, 67)tIt is clear then that in the first half of Childhood the narrator is governed by a gentle and selfless love, while in the second half he is controlled by love for himself. This transition marks the conclusion of childhood. This pseudo-autobiographical work conveys Tolstoy’s own longing for childhood, whose “memories,” like Nikolenka’s “refresh and elevate the soul.” (Tolstoy, 52). To both narrator and author, this blissful period is embodied in the memory of “mommy,” who according to Tolstoy is the “highest image of pure love” and who is the most beloved person to Nikolenka. (Orwin, 43) In hindsight, both use the mother’s death to mark the end of their childhood. However, this death of the most good and altruistic figure in their lives is more accurately a symbol for the death within themselves of the selflessness she represents. It is the loss of this capacity for sincere and boundless empathy, which is experienced by each person as they mature, which truly marks the end of childhood.WORKS CITEDOrwin, Donna Tussing. “Chronology.” The Cambridge Companion to Tolstoy. Ed. Donna Tussing Orwin. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002. 1-47.Orwin, Donna Tussing. “Introduction: Tolstoy as an artist and public figure.” The Cambridge Companion to Tolstoy. Ed. Donna Tussing Orwin. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002. 49-62.Tolstoy, Leo. “Childhood.” Childhood, Boyhood, Youth. Trans. Rosemary Edmonds. England: the Penguin Group, 1964. 11-103.Wachtel, Andrew. “History and autobiography in Tolstoy.” The Cambridge Companion to Tolstoy. Ed. Donna Tussing Orwin. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002. 176-190.
As the first thing that Tolstoy wrote, I saw glimpses of the brilliant, but lots of rough edges too. There were some incredible passages in the book. I think the description of the thunderstorm on the way to Moscow was my favorite. But there were sections that were dull, especially in the Youth section. I have not read any Tolstoy that relies on a driving plot, but Youth seems to meander all over the place and flop around like a fish until it dies. I liked the first two sections of the book much more than the last.Tolstoy paints his “self” character as a willful and petulant child. As he grows up, he is socially awkward and neurotic. He is constantly examining every reaction to guess what others are thinking. He often describes himself as acting a certain way because he thinks that is what others want of him. In this way he is not very likeable. This neurotic side is something I have not seen in War and Peace or Anna Karenina. Tolstoy writes in a way that makes it obvious he sees these traits as former flaws. But the book ends so abruptly, (and the planned continuation was never written) that I wonder what happened to change him. Was it his time in the Crimean War that finally snapped him out of his ways? Or did he simply grow up? What was fun to see was how Tolstoy touches upon themes that he later would expand upon. His struggles with religion, guilt, and piety show through at times. And you see a small window into his feelings on the mistreatment of serfs. There were also character archetypes that were introduced. His father seems to be similar to Vronsky in Anna Karenina for example. These archetypes are greatly expanded in later novels. Just knowing he had a childhood friend named Seryozha made me think of the poor child in Anna Karenina by the same name. I immediately saw parallels to Nabokov’s Speak Memory. Nabokov introduces his family members in the same way as Tolstoy, naming a chapter after each. And even though they are separated by 100 years, their childhoods seem very similar growing up on a rich plantation in Russia. Both were naturally gifted as kids, but could not bring themselves to study. Both filled their childhoods with daydreams and adventures in their minds. As the book progressed I saw comparisons to Joyce’s Ulysses in how the main character thinks himself witty and charming, and cares more for what people think of him than any substance. What is strikingly different is that Tolstoy seems embarrassed and reformed from this semi-autobiographical young self, whereas Joyce comes across as pompous and still self-righteous as an adult to me. Reading this book (and others of the era) makes me want to learn how to ballroom dance. I am a horrible dancer, uncoordinated and gangly. But the descriptions of the balls always thrill me. All the dances and the social interactions seem like something fanciful. On one hand this book might be one I would recommend to get a taste of Tolsoy….Although I would likely advise to read the first two sections only. But on the other hand, it is not close to the same caliber as War & Peace, so someone could be turned off by this lesser work and not take on his masterpiece. I look forward to reading more of Tolstoy’s work, short stories and novels.
What do You think about Childhood, Boyhood, Youth (1964)?
The novel series which got Leo Tolstoy famous.The series starts of really well with author sharing his amusing childhood experiences for instance his first Love, childhood friends and teachers but gradually it gets boring. There is nothing so notable in this novel, and I guess it is just a collection of quotidian events. Reader will be able to relate to several events from their life experiences, for example death of an elderly member in the family, graduation ceremony, exam fears, puberty changes, school bullies etc. By sharing these childhood anecdotes author has tried to reflect the rationale behind his beliefs.I was kind of bored by the end of second novel and their is nothing much to write about it.
—Pranjal Sahu
A collection of three autobiographical novels covering three stages of a Russian boy's early life — Tolstoy originally intended to complete his first "great novel" with a fourth part, but became disillusioned with the earlier sections. The childhood section was reportedly a mixture his personal experiences and those of close friends, while the latter sections became purely fictional. The boy's perceptions and understanding of them are strikingly appropriate to the age of the character throughout his development. Even more striking is how his cognitive development parallels those of children today — or at least mine, as I recollect it. I purchased this book in a used book store in 1977 after reading Tolstoy's War and Peace and read it immediately, and read it again in 1982.
—Ronald Wise
I really liked this book. It was like reading someones diary. I would like to write something like this too, about my own life (although, I think it would be much more boring to read).It was also very interesting to read about life in Russia at 1800. Although, there's a lot of things I don't understand. The social circles seems very confusing to me and there seems to be a lot of rules how to behave. You had to be perfect in anything, if you were a boy, that is. Nikolai didn't seem to much care about women and didn't value them much, but that was because of the time I guess. Women were not educated, and they were only baby machines and statues in the house. So they are pictured quite simple in this book which was a little bit annoying.The names were also confusing. It seemed that there were many names for one person. First they would address the person with his last name, then with his first name, then maybe with a nickname, then with only a first letter, and sometimes the names had different spelling, like adding letters to the end (it was the same with the other book I read about Russia). I got confused who was who. I think it's a Russian thing... and it's related to the social statuses. You address people differently depending on your and the others social status. Like Japanese -sensei, -chan, -san etc. endings... I think... Very confusing.But still I liked the book very much and could keep on track quite well. The chapters aren't related to each others much, they are more like their own little stories with same characters and places and time. Things from here and there. A Diary :DI was surprised how modern the language was. I read translated version from Esa Adrian, and I think this book was published in 1983. I was waiting an oldish language which would be hard to read but this was very smooth.
—Hanna
