The Dream

Today, Tolstoi takes us to a provincial 1863 Russian town where Prince Michael Ivanovich, who Tolstoi describes as, “a tall, handsome, white-haired, fresh coloured man, proud and attractive in appearance and bearing,” silently reflects on the aspirations and love, perhaps a bit too possessive, he had for his daughter, Lisochka, prior to their fractured relationship. In response to Lisochka leaving home one year prior and having a child out of wedlock, the Prince has made no attempt to see or communicate with her.

After reading Prince Ivanovich’s reflections, what do you think of him as a father and as a person?

“His wounded pride tortured him. His daughter—-his—-brought up in the house of her mother, the famous Avdotia Borisovna, whom the Empress honoured with her visits, and acquaintance with whom was an honour for all the world! His daughter—-; and he had lived his life as a knight of old, knowing neither fear nor blame. The fact that he had a natural son born of a Frenchwoman, whom he had settled abroad, did not lower his own self-esteem.  And now this daughter, for whom he had not only done everything that a father could or should do; this daughter to whom he had given a splendid education and every opportunity to make a match in the best Russian society—-this daughter to whom he had not only given all that a girl could desire, but whom he had really loved; whom he had admired, been proud of— this daughter had repaid him with such disgrace, that he was ashamed and could not face the eyes of men!

He recalled the time when she was not merely his child, and a member of his family, but his darling, his joy and his pride. He saw her again, a little thing of eight or nine, bright, intelligent, lively, impetuous, graceful, with brilliant black eyes and flowing auburn hair. He remembered how she used to jump up on his knees and hug him, and tickle his neck; and how she would laugh, regardless of his protests, and continue to tickle him, and kiss his lips, his eyes, and his cheeks. He was naturally opposed to all demonstration, but this impetuous love moved him, and he often submitted to her petting. He remembered also how sweet it was to caress her. To remember all this, when that sweet child had become what she now was, a creature of whom he could not think without loathing.”

                                                     Literary Apparel for Enlightened Readers

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