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Leo Tolstoy: Collection of 78 Classic Works with analysis and historical background (Annotated and Illustrated) PDF

4135 Pages·2013·21.67 MB·English
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Preview Leo Tolstoy: Collection of 78 Classic Works with analysis and historical background (Annotated and Illustrated)

Leo Tolstoy Collection Edited by Rose Polak, Ph.D. A-Z INDEX :: Novels :: Dramatic Plays :: Stories :: Essays :: Biography & History :: Quotes & Analysis Novels: Anna Karenina, Translated by Constance Garnett The Cossacks, A Tale of 1852, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude The Death of Ivan Ilych, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude Hadji Murad, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude Master and Man, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude The Kreutzer Sonata, Translator Benjamin R. Tucker Resurrection; or, The Awakening, Translated by Louise Maude A Russian Proprietor, Translated by Nathan Haskell Dole War and Peace, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude Childhood, Translated by C. J. Hogarth Boyhood, Translated by C. J. Hogarth Youth, Translated by C. J. Hogarth Dramatic Plays: The Cause of it All, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude Fruits of Culture, Translated by Arthur Hopkins Redemption, Translated by Arthur Hopkins The Power of Darkness, Translated by Arthur Hopkins The First Distiller, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude The Light Shines in Darkness, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude Stories: Albert, Translated by Nathan Haskell Dole The Candle, Translated by Benjamin R. Tucker The Devil, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude Fables for Children, Translated by Leo Wiener Father Sergius, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude Family Happiness, Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude A Lost Opportunity, Translated by Benjamin R. Tucker Polikushka: The Lot of a Wicked Court Servant Recollections of a Billiard-marker, Translated by Nathan Haskell Dole Three Deaths, Translated by Nathan Haskell Dole Three Parables, Translated by Nathan Haskell Dole Two Hussars, Translated by Nathan Haskell Dole The Forged Coupon and Other Stories The Forged Coupon After The Dance Alyosha The Pot My Dream There Are No Guilty People The Young Tsar Twenty-Three Tales (Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude): God Sees the Truth, But Waits The Prisoner of the Caucasus The Bear Hunt What Men Live By A Spark Neglected Burns the House Two Old Men Where Love is, There God is Also Ivan The Fool Evil Allures, But Good Endures Little Girls Wiser Than Men; or, Wisdom of Children Ilyás The Three Hermits The Imp and the Crust How Much Land Does a Man Need? A Grain as Big as a Hen's Egg The Godson The Repentant Sinner The Empty Drum The CoffeeHouse of Surat Too Dear! Esarhaddon, King of Assyria Work, Death, and Sickness Three Questions Essays: A Confession Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude Church and State, Translated by Nathan Haskell Dole The Kingdom of God Is Within You, Translated by Constance Garnett The Moscow Census, Translated by Isabel F. Hapgood On Labor and Luxury, Translated by Isabel F. Hapgood On the Significance of Science and Art, Translated by Isabel F. Hapgood Thoughts Evoked by the Census of Moscow, Translated by Isabel F. Hapgood To Women, Translated by Isabel F. Hapgood What I Believe, Translated by Constantine Popoff What to Do?, Translated by Isabel F. Hapgood Biography & Historical Background Biography Chronology Tolstoy, Leo by Charles Theodore Hagberg Wright Tolstoyan movement Yasnaya Polyana Christian anarchism Reminiscences of Tolstoy by His Son: Count Ilya Tolstoy Autobiography of Countess Tolstoy by Sophie Andreevna Tolstaia Essays on Russian Novelists by William Lyon Phelps A Survey of Russian Literature, with Selections by Isabel F. Hapgood Tolstoy Russia Russian Empire Russian Orthodox Church Quotes & Analysis QUOTES Works' ANALYSIS ________ A-Z Index -A- | -B- | -C- | -D- | -E- | -F- | -G- | -H- | -I- | -K- | -L- | -M- | -O- | -P- | -R- | - S- | -T- | -W- | -Y- After The Dance Albert Alternate Ending Alyosha The Pot Anna Karenina Article on the Census in Moscow The Awakening The Bear Hunt Boyhood The Candle The Cause of it All Childhood Church and State The CoffeeHouse of Surat A Confession The Cossacks, A Tale of 1852 The Death of Ivan Ilych The Devil The Empty Drum Esarhaddon, King of Assyria Evil Allures, But Good Endures Fables for Children Family Happiness Father Sergius The First Distiller The Forged Coupon The Forged Coupon, And Other Stories Fruits of Culture God Sees the Truth, But Waits The Godson A Grain As Big As A Hen's Egg Hadji Murad How Much Land Does a Man Need? Ilyás The Imp and the Crust Ivan The Fool The Kingdom of God Is Within You The Kreutzer Sonata The Kreutzer Sonata, And Other Stories Life In The City Life In The Country The Light Shines in Darkness A Lost Opportunity Lucerne Master And Man My Dream On Labor And Luxury On The Significance of Science And Art Polikushka The Power of Darkness The Prisoner of the Caucasus Recollections of a Billiard-marker Redemption The Repentant Sinner Resurrection; or, The Awakening A Russian Proprietor A Spark Neglected Burns the House There Are No Guilty People Thoughts Evoked by The Census of Moscow Three Deaths The Three Hermits Three Parables Three Plays: Redemption, The Power of Darkness and Fruits of Culture Three Questions To Women Too Dear! Two Hussars Two Old Men War and Peace What I Believe What Men Live What to Do? Thoughts Evoked by The Census of Moscow Where Love is, There God is Also Wisdom of Children or Little Girls Wiser Than Men Work, Death, and Sickness The Young Tsar Youth ________ Go to top | Go to TOC Albert Translated by Nathan Haskell Dole I. | II. | III. | IV. | V. | VI. | VII. I. Five rich young men went at three o'clock in the morning to a ball in Petersburg to have a good time. Much champagne was drunk; a majority of the gentlemen were very young; the girls were pretty; a pianist and a fiddler played indefatigably one polka after another; there was no cease to the noise of conversation and dancing. But there was a sense of awkwardness and constraint; every one felt somehow or other — and this is not unusual — that all was not as it should be. There were several attempts made to make things more lively, but simulated liveliness is much worse than melancholy. One of the five young men, who was more discontented than any one else, both with himself and with the others, and who had been feeling all the evening a sense of disgust, took his hat, and went out noiselessly on purpose, intending to go home. There was no one in the anteroom, but in the next room at the door he heard two voices disputing. The young man paused, and listened. "It is impossible, there are guests in there," said a woman's voice. "Come, let me in, please. I will not do any harm," urged a man in a gentle voice. "Indeed I will not without madame's permission," said the woman. "Where are you going? Oh, what a man you are!" The door was flung open, and on the threshold appeared the figure of a stranger. Seeing a guest, the maid ceased to detain the man; and the stranger, timidly bowing, came into the room with a somewhat unsteady gait. He was a man of medium stature, with a lank, crooked back, and long dishevelled hair. He wore a short paletot, and tight ragged pantaloons over coarse dirty boots. His necktie, twisted into a string, exposed his long white neck. His shirt was filthy, and the sleeves came down over his lean hands. But, notwithstanding his thoroughly emaciated body, his face was attractive and fair; and a fresh color even mantled his cheeks under his thin dark beard and side-whiskers. His dishevelled locks, thrown back, exposed a low and remarkably pure forehead. His dark, languid eyes looked unswervingly forward with an expression of serenity, submission, and sweetness, which made a fascinating combination with the expression of his fresh, curved lips, visible under his thin moustache. Advancing a few steps, he paused, turned to the young man, and smiled. He found it apparently rather hard to smile. But his face was so lighted up by it, that the young man, without knowing why, smiled in return. "Who is that man?" he asked of the maid in a whisper, as the stranger walked toward the room where the dancing was going on. "A crazy musician from the theatre," replied the maid. "He sometimes comes to call upon madame." "Where are you going, Delesof?" some one at this moment called from the drawingroom. The young man who was called Delesof returned to the drawingroom. The musician was now standing at the door; and, as his eyes fell on the dancers, he showed by his smile and by the beating of his foot how much pleasure this spectacle afforded him. "Won't you come, and have a dance too?" said one of the guests to him. The musician bowed, and looked at the hostess inquiringly. "Come, come. Why not, since the gentlemen have invited you?" said the hostess. The musician's thin, weak face suddenly assumed an expression of decision; and smiling and winking, and shuffling his feet, he awkwardly, clumsily went to join the dancers in the drawingroom. In the midst of a quadrille a jolly officer, who was dancing very beautifully and with great liveliness, accidentally hit the musician in the back. His weak, weary legs lost their equilibrium; and the musician, making ineffectual struggles to keep his balance, measured his length on the floor. Notwithstanding the sharp, hard sound made by his fall, almost everybody at the first moment laughed. But the musician did not rise. The guests grew silent, even the piano ceased to sound. Delesof and the hostess were the first to reach the prostrate musician. He was lying on his elbow, and gloomily looking at the ground. When he had been lifted to his feet, and set in a chair, he threw back his hair from his forehead with a quick motion of his bony hand, and began to smile without replying to the questions that were put. "Mr. Albert! Mr. Albert!" exclaimed the hostess. "Were you hurt? Where? Now, I told you that you had better not try to dance…. He is so weak," she added, addressing her guests. "It takes all his strength." "Who is he?" some one asked the hostess. "A poor man, an artist. A very nice young fellow; but he's a sad case, as you can see." She said this without paying the least heed to the musician's presence. He suddenly opened his eyes as though frightened at something, collected himself, and remarked to those who were standing about him, "It's nothing at all," said he suddenly, arising from the chair with evident effort. And in order to show that he had suffered no injury, he went into the middle of the room, and was going to dance; but he tottered, and would have fallen again, had he not been supported. Everybody felt constrained. All looked at him, and no one spoke. The musician's glance again lost its vivacity; and, apparently forgetting that any one was looking, he put his hand to his knee. Suddenly he raised his head, advanced one faltering foot, and, with the same awkward gesture as before, tossed back his hair, and went to a violin-case, and took out the instrument. "It was nothing at all," said he again, waving the violin. "Gentlemen, we will have a little music." "What a strange face!" said the guests among themselves. "Maybe there is great talent lurking in that unhappy creature," said one of them. "Yes: it's a sad case, — a sad case," said another. "What a lovely face!… There is something extraordinary about it," said Delesof. "Let us have a look at him."… II. Albert by this time, not paying attention to any one, had raised his violin to his shoulder, and was slowly crossing over to the piano, and tuning his instrument. His lips were drawn into an expression of indifference, his eyes were almost shut; but his lank, bony back, his long white neck, his crooked legs, and disorderly black hair presented a strange but somehow not entirely ridiculous appearance. After he had tuned his violin, he struck a quick chord, and, throwing back his head, turned to the pianist who was waiting to accompany him. "Melancholie, G sharp," he said, turning to the pianist with a peremptory gesture. And immediately after, as though in apology for his peremptory gesture, he smiled sweetly, and with the same smile turned to his audience again. Tossing back his hair with the hand that held the bow, Albert stood at one side of the piano, and, with a flowing motion of the bow, touched the strings. Through the room there swept a pure, harmonious sound, which instantly brought absolute silence. At first, it was as though a ray of unexpectedly brilliant light had flashed across the inner world of each hearer's consciousness; and the notes of the theme immediately followed, pouring forth abundant and beautiful. Not one discordant or imperfect note distracted the attention of the listeners. All the tones were clear, beautiful, and full of meaning. All silently, with trembling expectation, followed the development of the theme. From a state of tedium, of noisy gayety, or of deep drowsiness, into which these people had fallen, they were suddenly transported to a world whose existence they had forgotten. In one instant there arose in their souls, now a sentiment as though they were contemplating the past, now of passionate remembrance of some happiness, now the boundless longing for power and glory, now the feelings of humility, of unsatisfied love, and of melancholy. Now bitter-sweet, now vehemently despairing, the notes, freely intermingling, poured forth and poured forth, so sweetly, so powerfully, and so spontaneously, that it was not so much that sounds were heard, as that some sort of beautiful stream of poetry, long known, but now for the first time expressed, gushed through the soul. At each note that he played, Albert grew taller and taller. At a little distance, he had no appearance of being either crippled or peculiar. Pressing the violin to his chin, and with an expression of listening with passionate attention to the tones that he produced, he convulsively moved his feet. Now he straightened himself up to his full height, now thoughtfully leaned forward. His left hand, curving over spasmodically on the strings, seemed as though it had swooned in its position, while it was only the bony fingers that changed about spasmodically; the right hand moved smoothly, gracefully, without effort. His face shone with complete, enthusiastic delight; his eyes gleamed with a radiant, steely light; his nostrils quivered, his red lips were parted in rapture. Sometimes his head bent down closer to his violin, his eyes almost closed, and his face, half shaded by his long locks, lighted up with a smile of genuine blissfulness. Sometimes he quickly straightened himself up, changed from one leg to the other, and his pure forehead, and the radiant look which he threw around the room, were alive with pride, greatness, and the consciousness of power. Once the pianist made a mistake, and struck a false chord. Physical pain was apparent in the whole form and face of the musician. He paused for a second, and with an expression of childish anger stamped his foot, and cried, "Moll, ce moll!" The pianist corrected his mistake; Albert closed his eyes, smiled, and, again forgetting himself and everybody else, gave himself up with beatitude to his work. Everybody who was in the room while Albert was playing preserved an attentive silence, and seemed to live and breathe only in the music. The gay officer sat motionless in a chair by the window, with his eyes fixed upon the floor, and drawing long heavy sighs. The girls, awed by the universal

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* Illustrated with the original images. * Annotated with concise introduction, including analysis of Leo Tolstoy's works as well as modern view on Tolstoy's historical background.* Original footnotes are hyperlinked for easy reference.* The collection includes alphabetical and chronological indexes
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