The one line that kept me thinking while I was sick lately was Tolstoy‘s first line of Anna Karenina, I spent my days in bed thinking of that line again and again.
All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
I don’t need to tell how that one line proved over a century ago how smart and witty and simply stunning Tolstoy was, you will need to read one of his beautiful works to understand there’s no other way.
Back to one of the most beautiful beginnings in literature, that line happens to catch a picture of my life [and by saying my life I meant life around me not exactly myself] not just now but my whole life.
For it’s not just me but also everyone in my life face that struggle of/to happiness in a way or another, the only difference is where were you standing or the point you reached with that struggling.
Then that line clouded my mind and I just thought there must be some reason for that, and I started a jealousy fight with Tolstoy’s genius to feed my troubled mind.
Being happy for everyone/all families is being content, that cancels the strive to do things and the need for more so it’s a full stop. That I came to understand from Tolstoy, also the being content is just a bag and everything inside reasons happiness; so to be happy you need to content.
Being unhappy, though it might be in many ways it’s the ultimate result of being not content in some way.
If I thought of it in this way -the way I understood Tolstoy-, I find myself comparing what is supposed to be accepted plainly and what’s wanted or needed.
Living in a Middle Eastern society, you are supposed to accept things as they are or as you are told and that is how you are supposed to be happy. In fact even if I hate politics and avoid talking of it, that is why a whole older generation was against youth in the revolutions in the Arab Spring for simply happiness for them is a full stop and just accepting things as they are even if it’s not normal or fair.
Back to my mind’s fight between content and not content.
Tolstoy, if he believed that happiness or simply “being content” is just everything wouldn’t he simply write a novel and a master piece of pure happiness accepting things as they are and putting the full stop all just in his unique way?!!
Levin’s* complicated portray of Tolstoy made it clear how unbalanced and lost Tolstoy was, he was not content and unhappy and did have and I quote (some religious crisis while writing Anna Karenina) even Levin went through it too.
That man wrote Anna Karenina, and turned a society upside down.
No, his unhappy not content self did that.
The struggle within him did that.
The beautiful out-of-control need did that.
And my mind was finally letting go of jealousy, while looking at my book and reading the name Leo Tolstoy I smiled knowing we share something.
*Constantine Dmitrich Levin is a self portray and a character in Tolstoy’s book Anna Karenina which these thoughts are inspired of.
I’m a Tolstoy fan girl and I need to apologize for his other fans if they came here by chance and did not like what they read, this is a piece of work for just myself joy and pleasure.