Monday, 2 September 2019

In Which We Discuss War and Peace, Part 10, Chapters 25, 26, 27, 28, and 29

All right, let's rock this Asmodeus.  I don't like the idea of being stuck in the middle of something long, so I'm just going to try to finish this whole section today.   I'm going to aim to write 3 posts; one with chapters 25-29, then 30-34, then 35-39.

Chapter 25

Andrew invites some officers to have tea with them, since he doesn't really want to be alone with Pierre.  The officers listen to Pierre expounding on what he knows about the position of the troops, and Andrew interrupts to ask if Pierre understands it (though not as condescendingly as I just made it sound).  Pierre says he's not a military man, but he understood the general position, and Andrew says that Pierre knows more about it than anyone else.  Pierre had been assuming that he was the only one who didn't understand, so he's a little surprised by this.  He asks Andrew's opinion of Kutuzov and Barclay de Tolly.  Andrew says he's pleased about Kutuzov's appointment, but refers the question of Barclay de Tolly to the other officers.  Pierre asks Timokhin "with the condescendingly interrogative smile" with which everyone addresses Timokhin.  He answers with vague but optimistic platitudes, mostly that he likes that Barclay lets the troops go marauding over land they're abandoning to the French.  Andrew very much does not approve of this and says as much despite himself.  He compliments Barclay by saying that he "plans out everything very thoroughly and accurately, as every German has to", but that, when your father is dying, you send away his efficient German valet and tend to him yourself with your unpractised hands.  I am sure that this metaphor in no way exposes Andrew's own feelings over his father's death.  He feels that, now that Russian is in danger, she needs a true Russian to lead the army.  He also criticises the gossips for making Barclay out to be a traitor or a hero, rather than just seeing what's there.  He also dismisses the idea of a skillful commander, because war isn't chess and he believes it can't be known and predicted in the moment by a single person.  I suspect he's professing Tolstoy's own views here, because Tolstoy seems to be of the opinion that war can't be truly known and defined in hindsight either.  Anyway, Andrew ends his rant by theorising that war can only depend on the feeling within each individual soldier.  He then expounds on his idea that you have to will yourselves to win a war, which sounds like the sort of thing Terry Pratchett would dismiss with something like “If you trust in yourself. . .and believe in your dreams. . .and follow your star. . . you'll still get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren't so lazy".


He then criticises the way that the men at the top see tomorrow's battle as an opportunity to undermine a rival or win a medal, when for him, tomorrow means "a Russian army of a hundred thousand and a French army of a hundred thousand have met to fight, and the thing is that these two hundred thousand men will fight and the side that fights more fiercely and spares itself least will win".  Tomokhin immediately aligns his opinions with Andrew's.  

The officers leave, and as Pierre approaches Andrew to speak three horsemen ride by, speaking in German.  Andrew understands them, and the footnotes inform me that they are discussing the idea that the war must be extended to weaken the enemy, and individual lives don't really matter in the face of that goal.  Andrew does not approve, since his father, son, and sister are all in the "extend widely" that the men want for the war.  He is now even more convinced that German soldiers will lose them the war.  Andrew is ranting again, so he also expresses his wish to just execute enemy soldiers rather than care for POWs like the 'chivalrous' French.  I can see his point - it's probably quite hard to show mercy to a soldier from an army that is trying as hard as they can to murder your family in their beds.  He feels that just killing them would be less cruel and also less hypocritical, and thinks its akin to meat-eaters being squeamish about where meat comes from.  He saw all the chivalry of 1805 and yet they're still here, fighting the same enemy.  He also thinks that, if people disposed of chivalry, then they would only go to war when they were literally prepared to lay their life on the line for their cause and not just because someone offended someone else at a diplomat's dinner party.  "Let war be war and not a game".  After ranting for a few pages, he tells Pierre goodnight, since he needs to be well-rested and ready to die for his country in the morning.  Pierre debates whether to follow Andrew inside and continue their conversation - since he's sure it will be their last meeting - but decides not to.   Inside the cabin, Andrew is staring up at the ceiling and remembering Natasha, and how he understood her father better than Anatole, who only saw in her a "pretty and fresh young girl, with whom he did not deign to unite his fate".  He's right.  Ironically, it's Natasha's own romantic soul and innocence that lead her to betray him, since she was so convinced she could not possibly feel that attraction for anyone she did not love, and a man who did not love her couldn't say those things or act that way (my analysis, not in-text).  Andrew gets up and starts pacing.

Chapter 26


We're now catching up with Napoleon, on that same evening.  M. de Beausset has arrived from Paris with Colonel Fabvier from Madrid, both to see Napoleon.  Napoleon is being washed and perfumed by his valet.  The two give up updates on his army and general compliments.  De Beausset has also brought a portrait of Napoleon's new son, who is known as "The King of Rome", "for some reason".  I did some googling to try to find the portrait.  I couldn't, but I did learn that the boy is Napoleon's only legitimate son and that he'll die in 1832, at the age of 21, from TB.  He sends out the portrait to enliven the troops, and also sends out a punchy little speech which he is ridiculously proud of.  Then he makes De Beausset ride out with him, even though the poor man is tired.


Chapter 27


Tolstoy goes back to his history lesson here.  Napoleon spent the whole day riding around and giving orders without explaining his inner logic to anyone.  Tolstoy then quotes a gushing historical report of Napoleon's tactics and flatly debunks it.  Napoleon's orders were contradictory and could not reasonably be followed as the report claims.  The report suggests that perhaps the intention was to give orders during the battle, since actions will have to be made in response to the enemy's movement, but then Tolstoy debunks that as well, since Napoleon was known to be so far away during the battle that he had no clue what was going on and couldn't give orders to anyone.

Chapter 28

This chapter continues the theme of Napoleon being an idiot by first mentioning that some reports claim that the French only lost the battle of Borodino because Napoleon had a cold and was slightly less full of genius than under normal circumstances.  Tolstoy then points out that this only works if you see history as being formed by the whims of powerful individuals and therefore totally ignore the autonomy and free will of every single other individual, "contrary to all human reality".  Tolstoy is of the opinion that Napoleon did not affect events nearly so much as other sources think he did.  Essentially, Tolstoy is debunking the "just following orders" excuse nearly one hundred years before it was used for Nazi war crimes.  Napoleon didn't shoot at anyone or kill anyone - his soldiers did.  None of Napoleon's orders were followed during the battle, so it was not him who directed its course.  Each person had free will.  Tolstoy theorises that if Napoleon had tried to stop the war, he would have been executed and the army would have continued on with another leader, because it was inevitable.  To use another Pratchett analogy, it's like two large men trying to be polite in a small room, but sooner or later they end up smashing the furniture.  It's never really about Franz Ferdinand being shot (to mix wars).

Tolstoy continues that Napoleon's orders weren't any better or worse than any of those he gave in other battles, and the excuse of a cold isn't really any better or worse than any other reason that people gave for his victories or losses.  If Napoleon happened to win the battle, historians say his orders were good, and if he lost, they were bad.  Really, I guess, we should play a matching game and see if a historian - or military strategist - can quantify his orders as good or bad and then attach them to the correct victory/loss condition.

Anyway, Tolstoy concludes with the idea that Napoleon fulfilled his actual role as well as he ever did, that role being to represent authority and appear to command.

Chapter 29


We're back in story-view, still with Napoleon.  He returns from his second inspection, announcing that "the chessmen are set up, the game will begin tomorrow!".  He also can't sleep, despite having a far more relaxing evening than Andrew.  He feels a little bad that his army has shrunk so much since Smolensk, and checks with his adjutant, Rapp, that they've eaten.  He also repeats some themes from previous chapters, when he whinges about his cold and Rapp reminds him of something he said before a previous battle; that the wine, once poured, must be drunk.  Napoleon rides out at 5:30am, and hears the first few cannons fire (from a distance).  "The game had begun".

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