The Diaries of Sofia Tolstoy (63 page)

Lev Nik. rode a long way off to see the eunuch who was here previously and had earlier visited Chertkov while Lev Nikolaevich was there. He played vint again this evening. I played at the other
table with Tanya's stepdaughter Lyolya, who had asked me to teach her the game.

 

25th August
. This morning I had the unexpected joy of seeing Lev Nikolaevich at my door. I couldn't go to him at once, as I was washing, but I hastily flung a dressing gown over my wet shoulders and ran up to him. “What is it, Lyovochka dear?” I asked. “Nothing, I just came to ask how you slept and how you were feeling,” he said. A few moments later he was back again. “I wanted to tell you that at midnight last night I kept thinking about you and wanted to come in and see you,” he said. “I thought you might be lonely on your own, and wondered what you were doing—I felt so sorry for you…” At this the tears came into his eyes and he began to weep. I was overcome with joy, and this sustained me through the day, even though my imminent departure for Yasnaya and Moscow fills me with alarm.

I spent the day working on
Resurrection
for the new edition. Some uncensored passages have to be deleted, some omitted passages have to be inserted—all important and responsible work.

I enjoy myself with Tanyushka, take walks and grieve for my daughters' unjust attitude to me and the way they favour Chertkov.

 

26th August
. I haven't read any of L.N.'s letters to Chertkov, or from Chertkov to him, but can deduce everything in them from the way he refers to me: “S.A. (Sofia Andreevna) is very pathetic, I try to stand my ground and remember the role I have been called on to fulfil…More than ever I realize how spiritually close to you I am…I think of you constantly, I should like to see you…but this is not necessary if we know that our souls are in communion and we both serve the Father…I pray to God for patience, I kiss you…” and other tender words of this pharisaical nature, in which, with the genius of a writer, he laments the suffering he has to endure from his wicked wife. And this correspondence between him and Chertkov, based entirely on that theme, will be preserved for future generations to read…

They all treat me as though I were
ab
normal, hysterical, even mad, and everything I do is attributed to my morbid condition. But other people, and the Lord above, will judge for themselves.

 

27th August, morning
. My jealousy for Chertkov is a living wound! Why did it please God to open my eyes to these things?

I woke sobbing this morning from an agonizing dream. I dreamt Lev Nik. was sitting there wearing a new fur jacket with a hood at the back, and a tall sheepskin hat, and an unpleasant, hostile look on his face. “Where are you going?” I asked him. “To see Chertkov and Goldenweiser,” he said in an offhand manner. “I have to look through an article with them and clear up a few things.”

I was in despair that he had broken his promise, and I burst into agonizing sobs that woke me up. And now my heart and hands are trembling and I can hardly write.

 

Evening
. I took a walk on my own in a state of great agitation, praying and weeping. I am terrified of the future. Lev Nik. has promised never to see Chertkov, to have his photograph taken at his bidding or give him his diaries. But he now has a new excuse that he uses whenever it suits him. He just says “I forgot”, or “I never said that”, or “I take back my promise”. So that one is afraid to believe a word he says.

I have done a lot of work on the proofs, correcting
On Art
, ‘On the Census' and
Resurrection
. Mine is a hard task! I have a terrible headache—and oh, the depression, the depression!

When I said goodnight to Lev Nik. I told him everything on my mind: I told him I knew he was writing letters to Chertkov addressed to Bulgakov, Goldenweiser and the other spies, and said I hoped he wouldn't go back on his promises behind my back, and asked him whether he wrote to Chertkov every day. He told me he had written to him twice, once in a note he had added to a letter of Sasha's, and once on his own. That is still two letters since 14th August.

 

28th August
. Lev Nikolaevich's 82nd birthday. A marvellous, bright summer day. I got up feeling very anxious after another sleepless night, and felt even more so after going in to greet him. I wished him a long life, without secrets, tricks or plots—and said I hoped he would soon be completely
at peace with himself
, now that he is reaching the end of his life.

At this he pulled an angry face. The poor man is possessed—he considers that he and Chertkov have already reached the pinnacle of spiritual perfection. Poor, blind, proud man! How much more spiritually exalted he was a few years ago! How sincerely he aspired to live simply, to sacrifice all luxuries and to be good, honest, open
and spiritually pure! Now he enjoys himself quite openly, loves good food, a good horse, cards, music, chess, cheerful company and having hundreds of photographs taken of himself.

He is kind to people only if they flatter him, look after him and indulge his weaknesses. All his old responsiveness is gone. Is it merely his age?

 

Evening
. When he was out walking today, L.N. gave apples to all the village children, and this evening he spent two hours playing chess, and another two hours playing vint. He soon grows bored without these entertainments, and all this talk of living in a hut is merely an excuse to rage at me, so that with his writer's skill he can describe his disagreements with his wife in such a way as to present himself in the role of a martyr and saint.

 

29th August
. Lev N.'s anger yesterday affected me so badly I didn't sleep a wink; I prayed and cried all night, and first thing this morning I went out to wander about the park and the wood. Then I called on a dear young nurse called Anna Ivanovna, and she and her sweet, sympathetic mother comforted me.

I received a telegram from Lyova saying his trial had been fixed for September the 3rd, and that he was leaving on 31st August. I was glad of the excuse to leave, and I badly wanted to see my son, say goodbye to him and give him some encouragement. So Sasha and I travelled to Oryol on the Blagodatnaya line, and from there we went on to Yasnaya. L.N. and I bade each other a tender, loving farewell, and we both cried and asked each other's forgiveness.

I was sleepy and exhausted on the train—I felt shattered. It was terribly cold, only 2 degrees, and Sasha and I were shivering and yawning all the way. We arrived home at five in the morning.

 

1st September
. Bulgakov and Maria Schmidt were here for lunch, as well as Liza Rizkina (née Zinger) with her two boys. She is well educated and no fool, but I find her erudition and materialism rather alien. I didn't take a walk today; I didn't want to wash my favourite haunts at Yasnaya with my tears. For most of my life I have darted about with a light step and a light heart, conscious of nothing but the beauties of nature and my own joy! And now too it's all extraordinarily beautiful, and the days are clear and brilliant, but my soul is sad, so sad!

I did a lot of work on the proofs and various other things connected with the new edition, and gave orders around the estate. But nothing is going well. I was intending to go to Moscow, but I have no energy and haven't prepared anything, and it all seems futile and unimportant.

 

2nd September
. Today I sent for the priest, who performed a service with holy water.* The prayers were lovely, apart from the last one: “Victory to the Lord our emperor”, and so on. After all those prayers about the softening of hearts and the deliverance from griefs and troubles, it seemed utterly inappropriate to pray for victory, i.e. the murder of people.

In Lev Nik.'s room I found Chertkov's letter to the Tsar begging to be allowed to return to Telyatinki. It's a truly pharasaical letter, but what struck me most was his desire to be close to Lev Nikolaevich. What has happened though is that the Tsar allowed him to return, and now Tolstoy's
wife
has driven him away. He must be furious with me! And I am delighted!

Still the same enchanting weather—bright days, cool nights and a dazzling variety of greens on the bushes and trees. The potatoes are being dug now, the painters are finishing work on the roofs and outhouses, the earth is being removed from the hothouses, and here and there in the woods there are still a few mushrooms.

 

4th September
. I am becoming increasingly impatient to see my husband, and shall go to Kochety tomorrow without fail. Today I went for a walk on my own, feeling sad at heart; I received a sweet letter from Lyova saying his trial would now be on the 13th. I worked on
Resurrection
with Sasha's companion Varvara Mikhailovna, and took a stroll round the estate. It's warm, with a light breeze and little clouds in the sky, with wild flowers everywhere and the most marvellous garden flowers and bright coloured leaves—how good it is! But how sad to be alone! I like people and movement and life…That is why it's better at the Sukhotins', where there are a lot of people and life is simpler. Lev Nik. is more cheerful there too; he plays chess for a couple of hours after dinner with Sukhotin or the local doctor, then takes a walk, reads letters, goes into the dining room, asks where everyone is and for the table to be laid as soon as possible. Then he plays a game of vint, and that goes on in the most lively fashion for about three hours, until 11.30 p.m. He doesn't have to strike attitudes, since none are expected of him; there are no petitioners, no beggars, no responsibilities—he just lives, writes, plays, talks, sleeps, eats and drinks…

I am very afraid he will miss all this in Yasnaya Polyana. I shall try to make sure there are more people here. But we have managed to drive everyone away from our house, and now I have driven away Chertkov and co.

 

5th September (Kochety)
. I left for Kochety early on the morning of the 5th, travelling via Mtsensk. Deep in my heart I hoped Lev Nik. would return to Yasnaya with me, as I am tied to this essential work on the new edition and must stay close to Moscow, where I have all the books and materials to hand.

I travelled the 20 miles from Mtsensk in a strong wind and driving rain, and the muddy road and the ferry crossing and the agitation left me exhausted.

I had a cold reception in Kochety from my husband and my daughter. Lev Nik. had just ridden over to visit the eunuch, 16 miles there and back, and in this appalling weather!

But how warmly I was met by the two little five-year-olds, my granddaughter Tanechka and her little cousin Mikushka Sukhotin!

 

6th September
. Lev Nik.'s big toe is red and swollen after yesterday's ride, and he keeps saying: “It's senile gangrene and I shall surely die.”

 

8th September
. I felt much calmer when I arrived in Kochety, but now it has all started again. I didn't sleep all night and got up early. Drankov filmed us all again for the cinematograph, then filmed a village wedding they had put on especially for his benefit.

When I eventually plucked up the courage to ask Lev Nik. when he was returning home, he grew furious, shouting angrily about his “freedom”, waving his hands and making the most unattractive gestures. Then to cap it all he said he regretted his promise to me never to see Chertkov.

I received a letter from Chertkov—a lying pharisaical letter in which he asked for a reconciliation with the evident desire that I should let him into the house again.

 

9th September
. I wept and sobbed all day; I ache all over, my head, my heart and my stomach hurt, and my soul is torn apart by suffering!* Lev Nik. tried to be a little kinder to me, but his egotism and malevolence won't let him concede to me in anything
—not for anything
will he tell me if he is planning to return to Yasnaya, and if so, when.*

I wrote a letter to Chertkov, but haven't posted it yet. This man is the cause of all my suffering and I cannot reconcile myself to him.

 

10th September
. I stayed in bed all morning, then took a long walk round the garden. Lev Nik. flew into a rage with me again today and said: “I shall never give in to you on anything ever again! I bitterly regret my promise never to see Chertkov, it was a terrible mistake!”

Then he got up, and taking both my hands in his, he stared at me, smiled so sweetly, then burst into tears. “Thank God!” I said to myself. “He still has a glimmer of love for me in his soul!”

 

12th September
. I avoided meeting Lev Nik. all day. His stubborn refusal to tell me
approximately
when he might be leaving has made me feel desperate. His heart has turned to stone! By the time I left I had suffered so deeply from his coldness and was sobbing so wildly that the servant who was seeing me off started crying too. I didn't even look at my husband, my daughter and the others. But then Lev Nik. suddenly came round to the other side of the trap and said to me with tears in his eyes: “Well, give me another kiss then, I'll be back very, very soon…”

 

13th September
. I have been working hard on the proofs, and try to be calm and remind myself of Lev Nik.'s words: “I'll be back very, very soon.” Annenkova and Klechkovsky came to visit me.

It's hard to talk to anyone, for they all consider me abnormal and think I am being unjust to my husband. But I only write true facts in my diary. People can draw their own conclusions from them. I am tormented by life and material concerns.

 

17th September
. My dream that my husband would return for my name day has been dashed; he hasn't even written, nor have any of the rest of them from Kochety—apart from my dear granddaughter Tanechka, who sent me a greetings card. The others just sent an impersonal collective telegram!