Dare I ask what Tolstoy did?
from the first chapter of Dworkin’s Intercourse
further context: The Kreutzer Sonata is about a man (a fictional version of tolstoy) murdering his wife. it was functionally a threat, which he made her transcribe over and over again, and then beg on behalf of to the czar. She also had to rewrite war and peace by hand at least 7 times. akin to forcing someone to dig their own grave if u ask me
here’s some selected quotes from her diaries:
I am to gratify his pleasure and nurse his child, I am a piece of household furniture, I am a woman. I try to suppress all human feelings.
His coldness is a torture to me, and I have started to seek other things to fill my inner life, and have learnt to love music, to read into it and discern the complicated human emotions contained in it; but not only is music disapproved of in this house, I am bitterly criticised for it, so once again I feel that my life has no purpose, and bowing my back I copy out some boring article on art for the tenth time, trying to find some consolation in doing my duty, but my lively nature resents it and I long for a life of my own
L.N. [Leo Tolstoy] said that before one spoke about women's inequality and oppression one should first talk about people's inequality in general. And he said that if a woman raises this question herself, there is something immodest, unwomanly and impertinent about it.
I have served a genius for almost forty years. Hundreds of times I have felt my intellectual energy stir within me and all sorts of desires - a longing for education, a love of music and the arts … And time and again I have crushed and smothered these longings … Everyone asks, “But why should a worthless woman like you need an intellectual or artistic life?” To this question I can only reply: “I don’t know, but eternally suppressing it to serve a genius is a great misfortune
Now I am well again and not pregnant—it terrifies me how often I have been in that condition. He said that for him being young meant “I can achieve anything”. For me … reason tells me that there is nothing I either want or can do beyond nursing, eating, drinking, sleeping, and loving and caring for my husband and babies, all of which I know is happiness of a kind, but why do I feel so woeful all the time, and weep as I did yesterday?
tldr martial rapist and psychological (presumably also physical) abuser. but honestly those words don’t cut it at all. closer to a psychological and physical torturer of his wife
the only tolstoy i might consider reading is The Kruetzer Sonata, only since it’s a short story and so i’ll be able to talk from a more informed point about how evil this man is
titsay
izzy806
baratheonpilled
annaxmalina
kaledo-art
janainaart
