Soon afterward, however, the composer's ardor coolcd toward the novelist, whose theories on music were really too outlandish. Tchaikovsky accused Tolstoy of saying "very commonplace things, not worthy of a genius." He did not even like Anna Karenina, of which he had read the opening chapters. He wrote to his brother, "Aren't you ashamed to admire this disgusting non-entity, who pretends to be performing profound psychological analyses? . . . What value can there be in this aristocratic babbling . . ."
On the whole, however, readers and critics alike continued to rave over Tolstoy's new book. He was sincerely amazed at this, and wrote to Strakhov 011 January 26, 1877: "The success of the last section of Anna Karenina pleased me greatly, I must confess. It was so unexpected: I am astonished to see that something as ordinary' and insignificant as that can please the public."
In March of that year Strakhov sent him two articles praising his book to the skies and, proudly testing himself, Tolstoy burned them. "I was too afraid," he wrote to Strakhov, "that those articles would turn my head."47 Whereupon the good disciple chortled, "I admire you for burning the reviews by Markov and the anonymous critic. That is not what Turgenev, Dostoyevsky and Stasov would have done. They read every line written about them and take up their own defense if no one else will."48
While the final chapters of Anna Karenina were being published, the public was badly shaken by news of the uprising of the Serbs and Montenegrins against the Turks. Could the tsar turn a deaf car to this, could he abandon his traditional role as protector of the faithful in the Balkans? Aroused by the journalists' call to arms, scores of Russians volunteered to serve under General Chernayev and defend their "little Slavic brothers." Collections for the downtrodden rebels were taken up at church doors. The officers of the guards had visions of a short military tour through the land of the miscreants, complete with distributions of the St. George Cross. Tolstoy, who was writing the Epilogue to Anna Karenina, dared to express his disapproval through the mouth of his hero Levin, who said the volunteers for the front were "misguided . . . hotheads," always itching for a fight on the first pretext that came along; nothing could be more scandalous than "these ladies in sable capes and trains behind their chesses going to extort money out of the peasants, when their total collection amounts to less than the price of their train"; he even proclaimed that "the good of society is dependent upon scrupulous obedience of the moral law engraved in every human heart" and that "110 one, therefore, should desire or advocate war, whatever generous aim it purports to serve."40
On April 12, 1877, after much beating around the bush, Russia declared war 011 Turkey. Tolstoy's dismay was equaled only by the enthusiasm of most of his fellow countrymen. Katkov, director of the Russian Herald, was a confirmed partisan of the Russian intervention on behalf of Serbia and Montenegro. He would not publish the Epilogue in his magazine without revision and he told Tolstoy so, to the latter's surprise and indignation. "Leo has a strange attitude toward the Serbian war," Sonya wrote to her sister three days after war was declared. "I don't know why, but he does not sec it as we do; it is a personal, religious question for him. He says he is very worried about this war."
At Katkov's insistence, he made several unsuccessful attempts to rewrite the end of Anna Karenina; then, on Strakhov's advice, he decidcd to publish the Epilogue separately. The editors of the Russian Herald prevaricated about the real reason for the change, and printed the following notice in the July issue: "The installment of Anna Karenina in our last issue was followed by the words To be concluded in the next issue.' But the novel itself ends with the hero's death. According to the author's plans, there is to be a short epilogue—some thirty-five pages —informing the reader that Vronsky, feeling lost and miserable after Anna's death, leaves for Serbia as a volunteer; all the other characters live on in good health, and Levin remains on his estate and condemns the Slavic Committee and the volunteers. The author may expand this chapter in a special edition of his book."
Indignant at this maneuver, Tolstoy sent a telegram to Katkov demanding the return of the manuscript of the Epilogue and announcing that he would have nothing further to do with the Russian Herald. The Epilogue came out in booklet form in January 1878. As Tolstoy expected, the Panslavists called him unpatriotic. Dostoycvskv, in his Diary of a Writer, went so far as to express his regret that an "author of his stature should so deviate and cut himself off from the rest of the
Russian community in a matter of such importance." It was, he said, "a mental aberration" and "vulgar sentimentality," and a "crime against nature" to be afraid of killing a Turk who was about to impale a child on his sword. Ignoring these appeals to his patriotism, Tolstoy continued to be tormented by the war. "As long as it lasts," he told his wife, "I shall not be able to write. It is as though the city were burning. One doesn't know what to do. One can think of nothing else."50
lie followed events in the newspapers and gradually, unconsciously, began to side with Russia. Still hating the war, he came to rejoice at a Turkish defeat; the officer of Sevastopol began to stir within the apostle. "Thank God Kars has been taken," he wrote to Fet on November 12, 1877. "I have ccascd to feel ashamed." A few days later (December 6), a new source of joy, non-military this time: Sonya gave him another son—Andrey. "Even though it has come to be a sort of routine for me, I am stirred and moved and filled with happiness every time," he wrote to V. Islenyev. At his feet, his children were playing war with lead soldiers in Russian and Turkish uniforms and collecting the pictures of generals printed on candy wrappers. Some Turkish prisoners had been transferred to Tula, and he wanted to show them to his sons. They entered the courtyard of an abandoned sugar refinery, which was filled with tall, handsome men with mournful faces, all wearing blue trousers and red fczzes. A few of them spoke Russian. Tolstoy gave them cigarettes and money and asked them about themselves, and was surprised to learn that every one carried a Koran in his pack. As he left lie said, "What splendid fellows, gentle and charming." His sons, for whom the Turks were slayers of Christians, stared at him in bewilderment.
During the summer of 1877 Strakhov, who was staying at Yasnaya Polyana, helped to prepare Anna Karenina for hard cover publication. It was agreed that he would read the text, corrcct the most obvious errors and mark questionable passages, and Tolstoy would then take over and adopt or reject his proposals. But the author quickly became so involved in the work that lie caught up with his corrector and they continued working side by side. At four o'clock in the afternoon—an hour before dinner—the master emerged from his study and the disciple from his, and they set off together for a walk. With his big head planted on top of his narrow shoulders, his sparse beard and prominent forehead and wide-set eyes, Strakhov did not seem real—a being nourished on ink and paper—alongside the stocky, robust and red-chcekcd lord of Yasnaya Polyana, who breathed through flaring nostrils and looked around him with a proprietary eye. As they walked, they talked about the book. Strakhov, paralyzed with admiration, would sandwich a timid criticism between two enormous compliments. Tolstoy listened and usually objected; but occasionally he was converted to his guest's opinion and, following his advice, rewrote a few pages and deleted ccrtain episodes.